


The Bond

by lukinha_jesus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Bobby, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Healing Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Nightmares, Protective Dean Winchester, Slow Build, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-13 14:25:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2153925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukinha_jesus/pseuds/lukinha_jesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has a secret from his past. Dean is curious. What happens if Dean can't let it go? What if this secret unleashes a darkness Sam cannot handle alone? Will Dean know how to help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I see it happening somewhere around seasons 1 and 2. Angsty past, but not graphic.  
> Also, I'm not a native speaker of English, apologies in advance for eventual mistakes.

 

 

Chapter 1

 

“Don’t just stand there and look at us, run!” Dean told the couple who watched them with panic in their unbelieving eyes. “Now! Go!”  
  
They didn’t need to be told twice. The man, who had barely managed to buckle his belt back on, grabbed the pretty blonde – still in disarray, her hair disheveled and her make up smeared – by the arm and dragged her along right behind him and further away from the scariest thing they had ever seen.  
  
Sam watched them go before turning his attention to the very angry monster they had in front of them. Except it wasn’t as much of a monster as it was of a beautiful, stunning woman who stared them down intently.  
  
“And who do you think you are to spoil such a lovely night?” She had red, curly hair that fell to her waistline and white skin that seemed to glow under the moonlight. She might have been just a mesmerizing girl next door, if it weren’t for her yellow, fiery eyes, and the halo of light glowing around her.  
  
“Sorry, ma’am, fun’s over,”Dean retorted, looking over his shoulder to make sure the couple was out of sight. He returned his look quickly, his gun pointed at her.  
  
“It’s only over when I say it’s over!” She snarled, her face twisting into a mask of anger and power, and suddenly a circle of fire was all around the three of them, in the middle of a dark, wooded area.  
  
Sam breathed hard, the gun in his hand steady, loaded with salt bullets. He fired twice, and heard Dean follow him closely.  
  
“You fools! You can’t kill me with this!” The woman groaned. “I’m not your regular kind of demon.” She spoke leeringly.  
  
Dean frowned, lowered his gun and watched as her face softened into something seductive, teasing and almost amused. He stepped back unconsciously as she drew closer, and from a distance he heard Sam draw his gun again and order her to stop.  
  
“What are you then? What did you want with that couple?” Sam asked.  
  
The woman turned to face him, a beautiful smile on her plush, red lips. “What I wanted? I wanted what I always do, my child. I want the only thing worth having from you silly, pathetic mortals…" She walked closer to Sam, staring deep into his eyes.  
  
“Stay away from him, you bitch!”  
  
The woman turned around quickly and shot Dean a malicious look.  
  
“I wasn’t going to kill the pretty couple. Not as long as they kept the energy flowing…”  
  
Sam’s brow creased as he studied the creature in front of them. Suddenly he knew exactly what they were facing.  
  
“It’s a succubus, Dean.”  
  
“It’s a what?” Dean had barely heard Sam because of all the fire burning near them and the strange laughter coming from the she-devil’s lips.  
  
“She’s a succubus, they feed off people’s sexual energy. That’s why she was preying on the couple.” Sam said.  
  
“Oh, great. So are you like a voyeur then?”  
  
The woman snarled, walking towards Dean, this time showing perfectly sharp teeth and glowing, haunting eyes.  
  
“Sorry, not tonight. Sam? How do we kill this thing?”  
  
Sam searched his brain for anything he might have read on the subject, but as he concentrated, he heard a gasp coming from Dean as a surge of invisible power threw him on the ground.  
  
“I want to feed tonight! You stupid, stupid humans, and you can’t kill me!”  
  
Sam wasn’t willing to accept that without a fight. He started to pull back from memory the chant for an exorcism while holding a cross he had hung around his neck.  
  
 _“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…”_  he started, before being abruptly interrupted by a bolt of energy strong enough to make the cross fly and him land dangerously close to the fire circling in on them.  
  
 _“You can’t kill me fools!”_  She hissed.  
  
“Sam?! You okay?”  
  
Sam started to make it back to his feet, still trying hard to remember anything they could use against the succubus right now.  
  
“I think she’s right,” he admitted when he managed to get close to his brother.  
  
“You mean we can’t kill her?” Dean looked around at the fire blazing hotly and making it harder to breathe. He covered his face with his sleeved arm and coughed into his jacket.  
  
“Maybe we could, but not with anything we have here right now,” Sam assessed the situation.  
  
Before Dean could come up with a reply, the succubus spoke again, this time with a gentler, teasing voice and that made goosebumps break on both brothers’ skin.  
  
“There’s no reason for anyone to die here tonight boys. You just have to give me something I want, something I can feed on, and then we can all be on our ways.” She promised.  
  
Sam and Dean exchanged a glance.  
  
“And what is it that you want?” Dean asked, shutting his eyes at the light coming from around the creature, as if she, herself, was all lit in fire.  
  
“I usually feed off sexual energy, but you seem to have taken that away from me. Now, I’m just not in the mood to start another hunting from zero. I’ll have to take something you can give me.” She licked her lips and Dean swallowed hard, unaware he was doing so.  
  
Sam had no idea what a sex crazed, nymphomaniac devil might ask of them, but whatever it was it made him feel uneasy in advance.  
  
The woman walked towards them, and this time she let her long fingers touch Dean’s face, and then let her nails graze Sam’s cheek before raking her fingers through his hair. She chuckled.  
  
“I want the blood of a virgin.” She stated, and then she bit on her bottom lip with sharp teeth until a red drop of blood was visible. The boys watched as she made a show of licking it off.  
  
Dean chuckled too, a nervous little sound as he looked around, finding Sam’s eyes and seeming to have a silent conversation with him.  
  
“Ah… I’m sorry to inform you… horny lady, but I don’t think that’s gonna be possible.” Dean explained with mocked seriousness. “Right, Sammy?”  
  
“Yeah.” Sam agreed. “If you’re looking for a virgin we hate to disappoint you, but that boat has sailed.” He looked around, feeling the heat of the fire lick his face, and his lungs sting with the smoke he inhaled.  
  
“Oh, but I won’t go as far as demanding that kind of blood. I’m so hungry and bothered right now that I’ll settle for the blood of anyone who hasn’t been  _taken_.” She licked the word out of her mouth, and smiled as Dean crooked an eyebrow.  
  
“Sorry?” The older Winchester boy wasn’t sure he understood, but he was very much aware that the sooner they got out of there the better. The smoke made his eyes feel sandy and throat feel dry, and he was quite certain that all the oxygen would burn up pretty quickly if she kept that up.  
  
“You heard me. I want the blood of someone who has never been possessed by another. I want the blood of an _unclaimed_ soul.”  
  
Dean eyed Sam, who looked nervous and uneasy, and tried to shrug her request off with a smile.  
  
“Alright then. If we give you that, will you let us go and not go after anyone else?”  
  
“For the next hundred years, before I wake up again.”  
  
“I’ll take that,” Dean replied, and then turning to Sam: “So, who will it be, me or you?” He asked at the same time he pulled a sharp dagger from a pocket.   
  
“Oh, but he can’t.” The succubus smiled knowingly, turning her attention to Sam. “Right Sammy?” She squinted her eyes, enjoying the tension that visibly crept to the boy’s muscles. “Sam here can’t offer me his blood, because he is not a virgin.”  
  
Sam felt every fiber in his body go rigid with tension. Even his throat closed up and he knew the smoke had nothing to do with it. He knew Dean’s eyes were burning into his, perhaps hotter than the fire itself, and he felt cold sweat pool in his hands. “Isn’t it, Sammy?” She walked closer to him, touching a soft finger to his lips and tracing down his adam’s apple. “You have been with a man before. You’ve been  _thoroughly_  taken.”  
  
Dean widened his eyes at the scene unfolding now.  
  
“I can smell him on you, you know. Faintly, but certain.” She giggled, seemingly pleased with her wit.  
  
“What the hell is she talking about?” Dean made an unbelieving, amused face and stared at his younger brother.  
  
Sam knew he was being talked at, knew Dean was looking intently at him, but before being able to form words and utter them, he thought he would more likely jump into the fire behind him.  
  
“Oh! Big brother didn’t know that?” The woman enjoyed the scene. She wrapped a lean arm around Sam’s neck and whispered in his ear, loud enough for the other man to hear. “You didn’t tell your brother about this little secret?” She teased.  
  
The idea that Sam had already been with a man was so foreign, so outrageous and yet so ridiculously amusing, all at the same time, that Dean found himself helplessly staring at his brother, with a pathetic little provocative smile on his face.  
  
“Sam?” He couldn’t help the jeering tone of his  voice. “Now who would’ve guessed!”  
  
Sam heard the mocking tone of joke in Dean’s voice, but he was way too mortified to reply. He stared at a point in the distance, hoping the hot temperature would be held accountable for the blush in his cheeks.  
  
“All this time I thought you were studying to be a lawyer, and I never once imagined how much fun you might be having with those frat boys.” Dean teased, truly amused with Sam’s embarrassment. For all he cared, he had completely forgotten about the succubus.  
  
And she sensed that.  
  
“Dean…” Sam started, only to be interrupted by the devil.  
  
“Oh, please, I don’t have time for drama. Just give me what I want and I’ll be on my way.” She focused Dean and walked towards him, eyeing the blade on his hand.  
  
Shaking his head slightly, as if he could do away with thoughts who seemed to be clouding his mind, Dean turned his attention to the blade and lifted the sleeve of his left arm, getting ready to cut.  
  
“Not there. I get to choose where.” The woman put a delicate hand on top of his, making Dean stop. He waited for her to indicate what she meant, and she lifted his shirt slowly.  
  
“Hey there!” He began to protest.  
  
“Here,” she said, indicating his abdomen.  
  
Dean sighed, not exactly pleased, and cut a long, shallow wound on his skin.  
  
Sam was barely watching as the succubus got on her knees and curled the tip of her tongue to lick at Dean’s skin. He could barely see the look of sheer lust on her face, or the moan of hot pleasure that escaped her mouth when Dean gasped in pain. Sam could hardly focus. His head was spinning.  
  
Dean gasped at the prickly, painful sensation on his stomach as the woman got to her feet.  
  
“Very well,” she said. “A deal is a deal. So long boys. Not what I had in mind, but you taste good, I’ll give you that.” She winked at Dean, who cocked an eyebrow and smiled with the corner of his lip before watching all the fire and light vanish before his eyes, as well as the succubus herself.  
  
“You alright?” Sam managed to move closer to his brother when the spell was over.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Horny she-devil.” Dean sucked in his breath when he touched his lower belly lightly.  
  
“Let’s go, then. You need to take care of that,” Sam nodded at the cut.  
  
“It’s nothing, really.” Dean lowered his shirt and cleaned the blade of the dagger before putting it back into his pocket. Then, as they stared to walk off, he seemed to remember something and smiled despite himself. “Now that was an interesting night, wouldn’t you say so?” His eyes found his brother’s, and Sam wished he wasn’t seeing the playful tone in those green eyes.  
  
“I suppose…” he replied vaguely. “Hey, what was that?” Sam looked back angrily after Dean had just shoved him teasingly on the shoulder.  
  
The older Winchester grinned lightly.  
  
“Sammy, Sammy… now who would have known, huh? Here I was thinking you were this ladies man, slightly awkward I admit, but that you learned your lessons well from me… Little did I know you had surpassed the master,” he chuckled “And broken dude’s hearts as well.” Dean wasn’t completely aware that his teasing was half amusement and half something else. Spite, maybe? Something else that was a little bitter, and he couldn’t quite understand at the moment.  
  
“Dean… please, just leave it be.” Sam’s face was serious, like he was trying hard not to let his emotions show.  
  
“C’mon, little brother!” Dean punched him on the shoulder playfully. “You can tell me! You know I would understand.” Dean thought about it. “Well, maybe not understand  _understand_  as in how can someone let a dude-“  
  
“Dean.” Sam interrupted him. “That’s enough, alright?”  
  
Dean frowned when a thought occurred to him, making him stop on his tracks.  
  
“Wait, are you saying that the she devil was lying? You didn’t have sex with a dude?”  _‘You didn’t let a man fuck you?’_ Was what he really thought.  
  
Sam stopped too, but he tried at all costs to avoid Dean’s searching look. To his dismay, his brother took his hesitation as all the confirmation he needed.  
  
“She was right, wasn’t she? She was!” Dean grinned.  
  
“Look,” Sam raised his hands. “Can we just let it go? Please? She’s gone, the couple’s okay, we did our jobs. Let’s just go now. I’m tired as hell.”  
  
“Sammy’s been a bad boy in college!” Dean teased. “Learning more than just the ways of the law…”  
  
“Dean, stop!” This time Sam shoved his brother’s shoulder, but not in a playful way.  
  
“Hey! What’s gotten your knickers in bunch? I’m just joking, all right?”  
  
Sam said nothing, instead he resumed walking.  
  
“It’s just,” Dean went on. “You’d think that my brother would tell me about something like that happening in his life, right? I mean, do you really think I wouldn’t understand?” Dean changed his tone from teasing to hurting. “Do you think I don’t have an open mind, that I would judge you or something?”  
  
“Dean, listen, it’s not this…” Sam tried.  
  
“You’re my brother, for heaven’s sake, Sammy,” he complained. “I would never stop loving you for liking dudes.” The teasing tone was back in his voice, and Dean smiled despite himself at the way Sam looked uncomfortable. Maybe it was his way of punishing his brother for keeping something like this away from him.  
  
“Dean, I know that. Just, please, can we not talk about it?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because I’m asking.” Sam answered honestly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”  
  
Dean looked into his brothers’eyes for a moment and sighed, at last.  
  
“Fine.” He said. “Let’s hurry then, and we might catch that diner still open. I could do with a decent meal for a change.”  
  
Sam breathed in and out, relieved, and the two young men proceeded to making their way back to the city in silence.  
They had their dinner at the so called diner, and Dean didn’t bring up the topic of Sam’s discomfort again. Nonetheless, there was no denying that the revelation of the succubus had swirled around in Dean’s mind at every bite. He watched his brother eat, perhaps a bit quieter than his usual self, and he couldn’t help the way his thoughts drifted to the idea of Sam, his brother Sam, being in bed with another man.  
  
Not the that thought disgusted him. On the contrary, Dean wasn’t one to judge people based on whatever floated their boats, and finding out such a secret from his brother was way too interesting to simply ignore it. Besides, the way Sam kept all the mystery about it just made Dean itch the more to learn details about the fact. Who was this man that had, as the succubus said,  _taken_  his brother? Sam had always been the shy one around girls, but he seemed to love them nevertheless. Then who was this man who had affected him so as to make Sam give in? Now, Dean would try to let go and not bring this up anymore, at least for the time being, because Sam seemed pretty pissed. But the unusual thought might not leave his mind so soon, Dean realized as he got ready to sleep in his bed that night.  
  
He shut his eyes, but the knowledge that his baby brother had been manhandled, as well as the realization that Sam didn’t seem to trust him enough to tell him about it, for sure would make sleep less than an easy task.  
  
“Good night, Sam.”  
  
“Night, Dean.”  
  
The lights were all off as the two brothers feigned a sleepiness they didn’t feel.  
  
  
\-------------------------------------------------

  
 _tbc...._  
  
This is my first time writing wincest, so encouragement is very much appreciated. :)

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
Chapter 2  
  
  
  
Dean woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light. Before he could do anything else the memory from last night’s encounter with the succubus made itself vivid in his brain. He flinched when he tried to sit up and felt a stinging sensation from the self inflicted cut in his abdomen.  
  
“Morning,” Sam said, throwing a newspaper at him and sipping more of his coffee.  
  
Dean groaned when the paper hit his face and made a small but outraged sound of protest.  
  
“Morning,” he eventually mumbled. But before looking at the newspaper he looked at the pool of clothes around the bed, searching for his t-shirt.  
  
Sam stole a quick glance at the cut on his brother’s skin – it was nothing compared to the aftermath they were used to dealing with after hunting, and then he went back to his coffee and waited for Dean to catch up.  
  
“Just read it,” he urged, as his brother seemed to take forever to put on his clothes.  
  
Dean gave him an annoyed little stare and finally took the paper in hands. “What about it?” He asked.  
  
“Page 4.” Sam instructed.  
  
Dean did as it was expected of him, turned the page and tried to find whatever it was that his brother wanted to show him. A title quickly caught his attention, and Dean read the article about something unusual happening in a small town a few hundred miles away.  
  
“Nightmares, huh?” He said, throwing the paper back at Sam and getting up.  
  
“Yeah. Apparently a whole town’s felt a surge of nightmares big enough to make the news last night. Don’t you think that’s weird?”  
  
“Hell yeah. And fast too. These nightmares must have affected a lot of people to make the news so fast.” Dean poured himself some black coffee.  
  
“Right.”  
  
“Any bodies?”  
  
“Not so far, I guess. I say we should take a look. If we leave now we can be there in a few days.” Sam said.  
  
“Fine. Let me get my jacket.”  
  
Dean finished his coffee in a last, scorching sip before putting on his jacket and sitting on the bed to tie his boots. With the corner of his eye he watched Sam pack the rest of his things and head for the door.  
  
“I’ll be waiting in the car,” he said.  
  
“Sure.” Dean watched him leave and then it wasn’t just the succubus that crept into his thoughts, but the words he had heard from it, and the knowledge she had shared about Sam. Dean couldn’t help finding himself curious about Sam’s past lover, and the fact that his brother seemed less than keen on talking about it just made it itch worse. For sure it wasn’t earth shattering news, but why did Sam have to pretend it didn’t matter? Dean didn’t like the idea of secrets between them, no less than he liked the idea of a man, in bed, touching Sam…  
  
The older Winchester shrugged off his thoughts, finished lacing his boots, picked up his stuff and left the motel room as well.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
They had been driving for four hours or so. There was some music playing on the Impala’s radio – not the loud rock ‘n roll stuff, because Sam’s head was leaning against the glass and his eyes were having trouble keeping open. He hadn’t slept much the previous night. Hell, he might not have slept at all if he was honest. His heart had raced all through the night, and his brain had been busy playing hide and seek with his memories. So now in the soothing light of the middle of the day, with the soothing sound of the Imapala’s engine running, Sam couldn’t escape the drowsiness that took him over.  
  
Dean watched him every now and then as he drove. That was Sam, alright. His baby brother. The one who tried to run away from their life style, the one who learned they couldn’t hide from it. Dean had watched over Sam for so long, he had a hard time picturing his bother being a stranger to him. But that’s what the succubus secret had made it feel like. Sam kept something from him, and the way it seemed, he would never tell him. And it wasn’t something huge or anything, it was a silly, one night stand thing, Dean thought, probably just getting shitfaced and sleeping with one of his frat buddies. Then why wouldn’t he open up about it? Why couldn’t Sam trust him? If he didn’t trust him with small things, then how could Dean know that-  
  
 _He was falling, falling into the memory, falling into the past. There was a knock on the door. He didn’t go for it. But it came again, and again, and the knock wouldn’t go away, and Sam felt himself reaching for that door._  
  
“Don’t-“ Sam’s eyes snapped open and he jumped a little on the car’s seat, startled.  
  
“You okay, buddy?” Dean asked, studying him.  
  
Sam blinked a few times and petted his head where it had bumped against the window glass.  
  
“Yes…” he managed a faint smile. “Just had that feeling you’re tripping in your sleep and seem about to fall, you know?”  
Dean nodded, still studying his brother quite curiously.  
  
“Hey, maybe we should stop and grab something to eat.”  
  
“Best idea ever,” Dean agreed.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
In the diner they both ordered something after a quick look at the menu. It was a tall, handsome waiter who came to their table carrying their orders on a tray.  
  
“There you go, sir, your burger,” he laid the food before Dean. “And for you sir, your special salad of the day,” the young boy offered Sam his order and smiled politely before moving away.  
  
Dean watched the exchange when Sam thanked the young man and then started to eat from his plate.  
  
“Say… do you think he’s hot?”  
  
“What?”  
  
Dean shrugged, feigning casualness.  
  
“The waiter. He seemed to like you. Would you do him?” He squinted his eyes with leering provocation.  
  
“Dean, what the?” Sam looked into his brother’s eyes with exasperation.  
  
“Well, you know. Just thought, since you like guys and shit, I’d ask, you know. You never know when you might be missing out on an opportunity,” he winked and filled a mouthful of burger.  
  
“Dean, just drop it, alright? I thought I’d made myself clear last night.”  
  
“Aw, c’mon, Sammy. Just tell me if you fancy him. Hey, do you think that dude that plays-“  
  
“It was a long time ago,” Sam cut his brother off, his voice deep and raspy.  
  
Dean stopped speaking immediately, and even his chewing slowed. “And I don’t want to talk about it.” Sam added.  
  
Dean watched as Sam couldn’t seem to stare him in the eyes now. His brother played with his food, pushing it around his plate.  
  
“Sam,” Dean finished the food in his mouth and tried again. “I really don’t care if you like dudes, I mean it! I’m not judging you or anything. Hell, I was even trying to help!” He smiled, but Sam didn’t look amused. “I just think you should be able to trust me, you know? I’m your big brother, I’m the one you can tell your problems to whether if it’s a chick that’s breaking your heart or a dude that won’t call the next day…”  
  
“Dean,” Sam seemed to be trying hard to keep a steady face. “You want to be a good brother to me?”  
  
“Of course!”  
  
“Then please, just please drop it, all right? We have a case waiting for us, shouldn’t we be discussing ideas as to what might be causing those people’s nightmares?”  
  
Dean sighed, defeated. At least for the moment.  
  
Bringing up the job was a good way to make Dean let go of his insistent teasing and focus on something serious. But that wasn’t going to be the end of it. Dean would make Sam see that he could open up to him about his personal life. There was no way Dean would hold anything against him. He just wanted to be let in whatever it was that was going on in Sam’s mind.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
They spent the first night of the trip driving in the Impala, and the second day buying newspapers to see whether there was anything new about the alleged case. When night came they decided to sleep in a motel before continuing the trip early the following day.  
  
Dean was reading the paper in bed while it was his brother’s turn to take a shower. There were no new details about the nightmares happening in the small town, although the paper did mention the quirkiness again.  
  
Dean went through the rest of the paper quickly before tossing it aside. As it flew to the floor, the older brother’s eyes rested on Sam’s cell phone, lying by his pillow on the other bed.  
  
Without really thinking about what he did, Dean made sure he could still hear the water running and then reached for the phone. He shrugged and his lips curled in what was definitely a small smirk.  
  
“So Sammy, let’s see who you’ve been calling lately… Some lover from the past, perhaps?” Dean went through Sam’s phone calls, but found nothing noteworthy there.  
  
Then he started to look at Sam’s address book, name after name, sort of hoping, wishing those names would tell him some kind of information about his brother. He read some male names carefully, unable to help himself when he wondered whether that was the name of the guy who had  _taken_  Sam.  
  
 _‘Jess?’_  Dean thought.  _‘You still got her number?’_  Dean frowned, and for a moment all thoughts of provocation left him and he looked sad and thoughtful.  
  
The sound of water stopping in the shower startled Dean, and he put the phone back where it was.  
  
Sam entered their shared room with a towel wrapped around his waist. Dean watched casually, pretending to read a magazine as Sam put some clothes on and sat on his bed. He grabbed his phone and immediately his face seemed to darken.  
  
“Dean?”  
  
“What?” He asked, innocently.  
  
“Have you been checking my phone?”  
  
Dean widened his eyes and offered Sam a puzzled look.  
  
“Me, now why would I do that?”  
  
“Because Jess’s number is the first thing I saw here, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the one searching for it before.”  
  
“What makes you think it was me?” Dean tried to sound offended.  
  
Sam quickly realized his suspicions were right, and he sighed angrily.  
  
“Why can’t you back the fuck off, Dean? What do you want from me?”  
  
The question caught him off guard. Sam was right, what  _did_  he want? Checking his brother’s phone like some jealous girlfriend, what did he expect to find there anyway?  
  
“I don’t know, perhaps I’d like to feel you still trust me and tell me stuff.”  
  
“I do trust you and I do tell you stuff,” Sam started. “Why can’t I have one thing that’s personal and I don’t feel like sharing?”  
Dean didn’t know what to answer. Sam was right. As a matter of fact, Dean didn’t even know why he was still thinking about what that she devil had said. He should’ve just let it go, like Sam had asked, but instead he kept worrying it in his mind like it meant something, or maybe like he wanted it to mean something.  
  
“I’m sorry. You’re right,” Dean said, standing up.  
  
“Hey, where are you going?”  
  
“Out.”  
  
“Dean…” Sam’s voice softened a bit.  
  
“It’s okay, Sammy, I just need to clear my mind a bit. I won’t be long.”  
  
Sam watched his brother pick up his jack and leave. As much as he wanted to say something to make him stay, Sam just didn’t have the energy for it right now. In fact, he took advantage of having the place to himself and decided that he too should try and clear his clouded mind.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
Dean could be soon found in one of the town’s bar, drinking vodka and chatting up the cute bartender in the hope of getting a couple of free drinks. His plan worked, and pretty soon he felt at ease in the well known environment of cigarettes and glass clinking, followed by whispered proposals and sinful grinning.  
  
“Tough night?” The girl asked, pouring him some more booze.  
  
“Eh… I’ve had worse,” Dean snapped his lips and winked at her, eliciting a small smile.  
  
He flirted with her for another hour or so, warming up to the idea of getting laid tonight.  
  
“What time does your shift end again?” He cooed, causing the girl to eye him teasingly.  
  
“Just let me finish a couple more things.” She promised.  
  
Dean smiled languidly and took another sip from his drink. He might have even forgotten completely what had caused him to be there in the first place, but then he looked around himself and his eyes found something interesting.  
  
A few tables away, Dean saw a couple of friends. Except they weren’t friends, they were more of a couple, really. The two guys were very discreet, but Dean saw the way one of the guy’s hand rested on the other’s thigh, and Dean saw the gentle squeeze that happened under the table while they thought no one was paying attention.  
  
Before he could help himself, Dean was picturing Sam was the guy whose thigh was squeezed under the table. He saw his brother being chatted up by some good looking fella who would whisper things into his ear, drive him home and shut the door behind them. Dean didn’t want to, but he saw the couple reach out and share a soft kiss, and he wondered what it must have felt like for Sam when he was kissed by another man, and what this other mysterious man had felt when Sam opened up his lips and let himself be tasted.  
  
“Are you alright?”  
  
The girl’s words brought him back to reality, and Dean could beat himself over for even allowing such troubled thoughts to enter his brain. Hell, he didn’t want to know what Sam did, least of all what was done to him by someone else, he tried to convince himself. He was just upset that Sam wouldn’t open up, wouldn’t trust him with something that should be no big deal. That was all. It had nothing to do with Dean feeling utterly disturbed by the thought of some man having from his brother something so intimate and personal that Dean couldn’t dare, not in his wildest dreams, picture himself having. There was a part of Sam that if he, his brother, who loved him the most, couldn’t have, then no one else should.  The way the succubus had used the word  _claimed_  had made him feel like someone had had from Sam more than they should have.  
  
“Huh? No, nothing. I just realized I got to go, sweetie.”  
  
The girl looked far from pleased when Dean made to stand up and pay for his drinks.  
  
“Are you sure? I’ll be leaving in a few…”  
  
“As tempting as it is, I just remembered I have somewhere I should be. Sorry.”  
  
Dean turned around and left before she could say anything he wouldn’t like to hear. She seemed quite pissed with his sudden change of heart.  
  
Now Dean didn’t have somewhere he needed to be, but he knew he didn’t want to be in that bar anymore, having those thoughts he seemed unable to control. Instead, he headed back to the motel hoping to find some alcohol-induced oblivion on his mattress.  
  
He turned the key and walked into their shared room. From what he could see in the darkness, after his eyes had adjusted a little, Sam was fast asleep in one of the beds.  
  
Not wanting to waste another moment struggling with drunken, incoherent thoughts, Dean got quickly rid of his boots and unbuckled his jeans. He stripped of his jacket and left his t-shirt and underwear on as he made to his bed. He was about to settle in when his eyes, now a bit more accustomed to the dark and seeing in more detail, caught a glimpse of movement on Sam’s bed.  
  
“Hm…” Sam moaned ever so softly and his chest heaved a little.  
  
Dean arched an eyebrow and stood still for a moment.  
  
Sam’s breath was coming in shallow, short gasps, and every now and then a small little moan would trip past his lips, causing his body to writhe unconsciously under the blankets.  
  
“Jesus,” Dean whispered. “Wet dreams, Sam? Really?” Dean whispered in the dark, telling himself he should stop staring at the way Sam bit on his bottom lip and let out soft little pants.  
  
The older Winchester managed to take his eyes away and get into his own bed. He shut his eyes as tightly as he could, trying to do away with images of Sam, images of the couple he had seen at the bar, and images of what he could be doing with the cute bartender right now hadn’t he been so stupid as to come home.  
  
 _“Hmm…”_  
  
He might not be seeing it anymore, but his ears could not be saved from hearing Sam’s sounds. Dean wondered if those were the sex sounds Sam made when he was being  _taken_  by this mysterious man from the past.  
  
“Fuck,” the older brother cursed at himself, “I should’ve banged the blonde,” he chastised himself. Luckily, there was still enough alcohol in his system to make sure he didn’t dwell for long over the sounds and thoughts troubling him. Pretty soon Dean was fast asleep and, for the time being, free from whatever it was that kept nagging at him.  
  
\------------------------------------------------

  
  
_tbc...._


	3. Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3  
  
  
  
They had been on the road for three days now, and the closer they got to their destination, the more the papers talked about the odd wave of nightmares assaulting the poor residents of the place.  
  
“Do you think it’s a ghost?” Sam asked, throwing the paper on the backseat of the Impala and turning down the music.  
  
“Perhaps. But why would a ghost target so many people?”  
  
“So what do you think, a demon maybe?”  
  
Dean shook his head without certainty. “Could be. But why would they be doing it? It’s not like they are getting souls.”  
  
“I’ll give Bobby a call. Maybe he has a list of monsters feeding off people’s fears.”  
  
“Good.” Dean agreed.  
  
For the past couple of days Dean hadn’t brought up the subject that Sam seemed so quick to avoid. Nonetheless, it felt like there was a thick, tall wall between them, like an unspoken barrier through which one eventually dared look at the other. Sam had a feeling that Dean was still upset about his not opening up about his past, but as far as he was concerned, Dean would have to come to terms with not knowing every single detail of his private life. Some things were just….well,  _private,_ Sam thought.  
  
The succubus’ words had stirred memories and feelings Sam wasn’t prepared to deal with. Let alone share them with his brother. He hoped that if he could only dodge Dean’s curiosity long enough they would soon be too caught up in the next job and his older brother would just let go. Not that Sam didn’t know how stubborn Dean could be when he set his mind to it, but he thought it was worth hoping for.  
  
They drove most of the day until the beginning of the night, when they decided to stop at a small town and check in a motel. They should reach the city of nightmares in a couple of days if all went well. Sam left his brother in the room and went out to get them something to eat. When he returned carrying takeout food, Dean was working out on the floor.  
  
Sam glanced at his brother’s sweat covered back as he finished a sequence of push ups and threw one of the food bags on his bed.  
  
“What did you get?” Dean stopped exercising as soon as he realized there was food.  
  
“Tofu.”  
  
“What? You know I hate that stuff, it ain’t even food-“ Dean started.  
  
“For me, and a burger for you.” Sam finished, patiently.  
  
“Oh, that’s better. What about pie?”  
  
Sam eyed him silently for a moment, conveying his point.  
  
“You’re not fun at all,” Dean said and sat on his bed, unwrapping the burger. It was cold, but he was too hungry to care. He took a big bite and spoke with his mouth full.  
  
“So, heard anything unusual?”  
  
Sam was turning on his laptop at the same time he started to eat his food.  
  
“Actually yes, check this out. Bought it at the gas station.” He threw the local newspaper at Dean.  
  
“More nightmares?”  
  
“Someone died, Dean. Apparently this woman woke up in the middle of night, terrified, and jumped to her death from the bedroom window of her second story house.”  
  
Dean frowned, took another huge bite and read the news.  
  
“No witnesses?”  
  
“She lived alone. Her dog started barking and woke up some neighbors.”  
  
“How do we know it’s related to whatever is causing the nightmares?”  
  
“The news says she talked to a friend a day earlier, and complained about having trouble sleeping because of bad dreams.” Sam said.  
  
Dean nodded and kept on reading.  
  
“Nightmares then, huh? Alright, we’re coming for you, whatever you are.” Dean tossed the paper aside.  
  
Because they intended on leaving early the following morning, they two boys decided to try and get at least some hours of sleep before moving on. Dean felt some of the strain from driving for so many hours, and was the one who fell asleep sooner.  
Sam stayed in bed for at least another hour before he too could give in to oblivion.  
  
  
~ * ~   
  
  
Dean woke up earlier than the alarm clock and nearly jumped out of his skin. He didn’t know whether he had had a nightmare or just if the idea of the case had gotten inside his brain and awakened him. Either way, he checked his watch and it was time to get up and go. He looked at his right and found Sam still asleep.  
  
Deciding they could afford a few more minutes of delay, Dean got up and got dressed, and went out to buy them some papers and breakfast before they left.  
  
He was a little surprised to come back to their shared room to find Sam still asleep. His brother was usually the early bird. And it seemed unlikely that he hadn’t heard any noise from Dean getting up and leaving before.  
  
Dean approached the small table with Sam’s laptop on it and let a bag, the paper and his keys fall heavily on it.  
  
“Hmm…” Sam moaned and turned to the side.  
  
Dean rolled his eyes, picked up his keys and tossed them onto the table again, louder this time. With growing frustration, he approached his younger brother only to see he was still sound asleep.  
  
And maybe enjoying himself way too much.  
  
“…mmm…” Sam whimpered, and his breath came in ragged puffs.  
  
Dean cocked an eyebrow.  
  
“Jeez, Sammy, you got to get yourself a girl, this is getting awkward.”  
  
But Sam didn’t seem to hear him. He gasped faintly and moaned a series of short, pained and clipped little sounds. His forehead and neck were glistening in a thin layer of sweat. When Sam’s gasps became more urgent and he started chewing on his bottom lip, Dean couldn’t take it any longer. He grabbed the paper bag from the table and tossed it at his brother.  
  
“Rise and shine, princess! The road is waiting.” He spoke loudly.  
  
Sam’s eyes still took a languid while to comply, but at last he opened them and looked around, bewildered.  
  
“Dean?” He asked throatily.  
  
“Seriously, though, Sam. You need to do something about your hormones.” Dean grinned. “I mean, aren’t you a little old for the whole wet dreams routine?” He teased, and made as if he would tug at the blanket and expose his brother.  
  
“Dean, no!” Sam reacted quickly, all sleepiness leaving him right away. “Get off my hair.” He clutched the blanket and sheets tightly around his mid-waist, and his heart was beating fast.  
  
“Whatever dude, read the paper. There’s been another death.”  
  
“What, where?”  
  
“The town we’re going?”  
  
Sam saw the newspaper laying on the floor but made no movement of reaching for it.  
  
“What happened?” He asked instead.  
  
“Apparently husband wakes up in the middle of the night, freaks out about someone breaking into the house and coming for them, picks up his gun and fires.”  
  
“Was there someone breaking and entering?”  
  
“No, apparently there was no one. The house was locked. The husband ended up shooting his wife and then himself when he saw what he’d done. Police think he was having a nightmare about a burglar.”  
  
Sam frowned and ran his fingers through his hair.  
  
“We really do need to get in touch with Bobby again, see if he has something for us.” He pointed out.  
  
“Right. I’m ready to leave, I’ll be waiting for you outside.” And then, with a smirk, Dean added. “You take care of whatever problem you have under those sheets before we go.”  
  
Sam felt the wetness in his underwear and knew his cheeks were changing color, because he could feel them burn.  
Mercifully, Dean said nothing about it, just shook his head, smiled and left.  
  
When he found himself alone, Sam took a deep, calming breath and lifted the sheets off himself. He was very still for a moment, looking at the mess he’d made. Then, deciding he could use a shower, he forced himself to get to his feet and move to the bathroom.  
  
Under the running water Sam closed his eyes and felt his muscles relaxing. He touched his forehead to the tiles in front of him and stood still, banging his head ever so softly against the cold wall.  
  
“Get your shit together,” he whispered to himself. “Get your fucking shit together, you can do it.” He shut his eyes and tried to let the running water calm his nerves down.  
  
Ten minutes later he was looking into his bag for clean clothes and throwing them on. Before he left the room to join his brother, though, Sam walked towards the bed where he had slept. He took a nervous look around to make sure he was alone and Dean wasn’t coming back in. Then, in a swift, precise movement, Sam flipped the mattress and then pulled the blanket once again neatly on top of it.  
  
He felt a mixture of guilt and shame, but also relief. Then he took his things and left, eager to get going.  
  
  
~ * ~   
  
  
The following day was spent mostly on the road.  
  
“Do you want me to drive now?” Sam offered, assuming his brother was tired.  
  
Dean just gave him the eye, in a way that made Sam roll his and shrug.  
  
“Whatever, man.”  
  
Dean didn’t even bother replying to that.  
  
They drove most of the morning and into the afternoon. There were about two hundred miles yet to cover, but they felt it could wait until the next day. They still hadn’t heard anything useful from Bobby, except that the hunter might be joining them when they reached their destination.  
  
They stopped for gas and snacks before heading to a motel, and while Dean was busy paying the clerk, Sam took a look at the papers to see whether there was anything new.  
  
“Sam?”  
  
He turned around at the mention of his name.  
  
“Mike?”  
  
“Sam, man,  what are you doing here in this end of world?” The man pulled Sam into a hug.  
  
“You tell me, what are  _you_  doing here? Never heard from you again when you dropped out because of the baby.” Sam smiled, glad to see an old friend.  
  
“Well, Cindy has family here, and she thought the country was a much healthier environment for a kid and all… you know how it is.”  
  
“Yeah, I suppose.” Sam laughed.  
  
“What about you? You here working on some case?”  
  
Sam’s eye twitched slightly and he smiled a new smile that didn’t show in his eyes.  
  
“You could say that.”  
  
“So what is it that brought you here? I haven’t heard about anything big enough on the papers to draw a lawyer all the way from-“  
  
“Oh, no. Mike, I dropped out too.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Yeah…”  
  
“Why? You were awesome in pre law!”  
  
Sam swallowed hard and waved a hand, trying to smile it off.  
  
“You know… family stuff.”  
  
“Oh, I see.”  
  
Dean saw the conversation happening from a distance and arrived close enough to be seen by both young men.  
  
“Uh, Mike, this is my brother Dean.”  
  
“Hey.” Dean nodded in his direction.  
  
“Hi.”  
  
“Uhmm…” Sam looked around, as if he wanted something. “Nice to see you again, man. We just, we have somewhere we have to be.”  
  
“Oh, sure. Nice seeing you too, Sam.”  
  
“By the way, you don’t happen to know anything about people having nightmares around town, do you?” Dean asked.  
  
“Dean.” Sam eyed his brother reproachfully.  
  
“Um… no,” Mike sounded confused.  
  
“Nevermind my brother,” Sam shrugged the topic off. “See you around.” He nodded at his friend and turned around to walk away, pulling Dean by the jacket.  
  
“What?” Dean asked.  
  
“Nothing. Just… Let’s go.”  
  
Dean watched his brother as they got into the car to go to the motel.  
  
Now it was Sam’s turn to look uncomfortable under the stare.  
  
“What?” He asked.  
  
“Nothing.” Dean assured. “An old friend then, huh?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“From the fraternity?”  
  
“Don’t go there, Dean. I’m warning you.” Sam stared at him intently.  
  
Dean raised both hands mocking defeat and started the car.  
  
“I figured tall skinny guys weren’t your type anyway.”  
  
Sam didn’t fall for the provocation. Instead he rode beside his brother in silence until the motel.  
  
  
~ * ~   
  
As soon they let themselves in and threw their stuff on the floor, Sam shut the door and took a deep, calming breath.  
Oblivious to his brother’s state of mind, Dean happily found a bottle of Vodka he had purchased in one of the bags. He opened it and poured a small dose for himself. There was nothing better to relax after long hours of driving. Or perhaps there was, but drinking was the next best thing.  
  
“Dean,” Sam shook his head when his brother offered him a glass. “We need to talk.”  
  
Dean arched an eyebrow and drank it all in a shot.  
  
“I thought you didn’t want to talk.” He said.  
  
“I don’t. And that’s the problem, you keep bringing it up trying to piss me off. What’s the matter with you?”  
  
Dean poured himself another dose.  
  
“No, little brother, what’s the matter with  _you_?” He said, on a more serious tone.  
  
“With me?”  
  
“Yeah, Sam, with you. You used to trust me, you know.”  
  
“Oh, please, not this again,” Sam shut his eyes for a couple of seconds.  
  
“Now it’s like these succubus and demons or whatever know more about my brother than I do.”  
  
“Alright, Dean, what is it that you want to know? Huh? Ask me then.” Sam provoked.  
  
That seemed to work because Dean was suddenly unsure of what to say next.  
  
“Well,” he started, taking another sip from his drink. “For once, was she telling the truth?”  
  
“You know that already. Yes.”  
  
Dean nodded approvingly at the answer. Then he thought about what else he wanted to know anyway? Well, there were many things. Had Sam enjoyed it, for instance. Would he be willing to do it again? How was it different than being with a chick? Of course Dean could imagine the answer to that, but still… There might be something good about it, or people wouldn’t do it right?  
  
“Do you like dudes?” Dean asked with a smile dancing on his lips.  
  
“No.” Sam answered slowly. “I don’t think so.”  
  
“Did you enjoy it?” Dean asked before he could stop himself.  
  
“Ah,” Sam seemed outraged. “I’m not telling you details about it.”  
  
“And why not?”  
  
“You don’t see  _me_  asking details about the chicks  _you_ lay.”  
  
“Well, I would tell you stuff if you asked. Tit size, whether or not she’s into dirty talking, whatever you asked, bro.”  
  
“Well maybe I’m not like you, Dean. Maybe I just don’t kiss and tell.” Although he tried to make light of it, it sounded like just saying that was, somehow, painful.  
  
Still, it managed to elicit a spark of anger in Dean.  
  
“I don’t understand why you make such a big deal out of it, Sam. I was just trying to be your friend, to make you open up…”  
  
“No, Dean, you were just trying to please some perverted curiosity you have in you.” Sam accused. “And why’s that, huh?”  
  
Dean didn’t like the question. He didn’t like to think about his reasons to be curious as much as he liked the feeling of curiosity itself.  
  
“Because I’m your brother, I should know stuff about you.”  
  
“You can’t know everything about me, Dean, you  _don’t_  know everything about me.”  
  
“I would if you weren’t so damn secretive about stuff.”  
  
“I wouldn’t have to be if you stopped acting like it’s your damn right to know every little thing that happens to me.”  
  
“That’s not true!”  
  
“You never let me drive, you’re always asking me trust you, to tell you everything, you never listen! Why don’t you stop acting like you’re the boss of me? You’re not dad, Dean.”  
  
That seemed to have the desired effect. Dean put the glass back on the table and his brow was furrowed.  
  
“Just let it go, Dean.”  
  
“I could let it go…” Dean started.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“…if you stopped being such a little bitch about it.”  
  
That seemed to flare Sam’s temper, and without much of a second of thought he shoved his brother hard.  
  
“Fuck you.”  
  
Dean wasn’t expecting the push and raised his hand instinctively to protect himself. Some part of his watch must have connected to his bottom lip quite forcefully, because he could taste blood and feel an instant swelling there.  
  
Sam stood still and watched Dean lick the drop of blood off his lip. Silence was suddenly very uncomfortable.  
  
“Dean…” Sam started. “I’m sorry, I… didn’t mean to.” He looked truly regretful and suddenly very tired.  
  
“Whatever Sammy. It doesn’t matter. I’m going out.”  
  
Sam knew better than to ask anything when his brother stormed past him and left the room. He obviously needed to let some of the steam go.  
  
As soon as he found himself alone, Sam shut his eyes and tried hard to steady himself. He knew he wouldn’t be able to work, let alone get any sleep. Then his eyes fell on the open bottle of Vodka, which suddenly seemed extremely inviting and comforting.  
  
He sat down on the table and filled himself a glass. The first of many that would be following soon.   
  
\-------------------------------------------------------

  
_tbc...._

_  
  
  
Thanks for reading... :)   Next chapter Dean will know the secret... _

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
  
  
When Dean returned to their shared room, some good hours later, he smelled faintly of girl’s perfume, and as he shed his jacket and threw it on his bed, the smell of cigarettes filled the room as well. His breath too stank of alcohol, but Sam hadn’t smelled any of these. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen when Dean looked around.  
  
Before even calling his brother’s name, a sense of alertness crept in immediately, numbing some of the alcohol in his system, and Dean reached for the dagger in his pocket.  
  
“Sam?” He called out slowly, and then his eyes fell on the table and on his bottle of Vodka. Or what was left of it anyway. “Fuck.” Dean muttered, dismayed. And then he heard the sound of the toilet being flushed down and water running in the sink. “Sam, you in there?”  
  
Dean had taken the time to calm himself down, and he felt bad for their argument, as he usually did whenever they happened to have one. If truth be told, he  _was_  prying into Sam’s personal matters. Yes, he was curious as hell, but there was also something unstoppable in his urgency to know. Dean couldn’t even put his finger to what it was. He told himself he just wanted to  _know_  Sam and be there for him. But the further he tried delve on the subject, the faster his heart beat, and the more dangerously unstable his thoughts became. So instead he had just drunk and done whatever he could until he thought he was calm enough to come back and make things right.  
  
“I’m here,” Sam mumbled, walking out of the bathroom looking sick.  
  
Dean couldn’t suppress a small chuckle.  
  
“You drunk, kid?”  
  
“So what, you can drink and I can’t?” Sam started.  
  
“Hey,” Dean raised both hands. “I’m not here to fight, alright.”  
  
Sam looked at him through bloodshot, intoxicated eyes.  
  
“But at least I can hold my liquor,” Dean pointed out.  
  
“Shut up.” Sam walked past him towards what was left of the bottle.  
  
“Oh, no no no, not so fast. I think you’ve had enough.” Dean took the bottle before Sam could get to it.  
  
“Dean, just give it to me."  
  
“No.”  
  
“Dean,” Sam’s voice cracked between anger and despair.  
  
“Sam… Just look at yourself. You are drunk already. Stop this, ok? I’m sorry for being a dick. I should’ve just respected you, alright? I’m sorry.” Dean said, still holding the bottle away from his brother.  
  
Sam seemed to consider his words. He stopped reaching for the bottle and instead just walked past his brother towards the shut window, ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.  
  
“I mean it.” Dean insisted.  
  
Sam was still staring at a point on the wall, and Dean wasn’t sure whether his brother had understood what he’d just said.  
  
“So what if you got drunk one night and got it on with a man? Like I never had any crazy one night stands I’d rather forget.” Dean chuckled, hoping he was making amends. To his surprise, he heard Sam chuckling too. Satisfied, Dean smiled. But when Sam turned around his eyes weren’t cheerful. They seemed glassy and hurt.  
  
“It was not a one night stand, Dean. It was much, much more than that.” Sam smiled a crooked, defeated smile.  
  
And then it got him. Of course, Dean thought. Of course it wasn’t just a fuck or anything. Sam had been  _in love_. The realization felt like fingers made of ice stroking his heart, and for the first time since the succubus’revelation Dean didn’t think it was funny and he wasn’t curious… He just felt, well, sad. All this time, what if Sam was suffering with unrequited love? What if his heart had been broken and Dean was being a pain and making fun of that? After all, Dean could relate to loving someone so much it hurt, and you just chose not to talk about it, ever.  
  
“I’m sorry…” He spoke. “I truly am, Sammy. I never thought you were in love…”  
  
“ _Love?!_ ” Sam laughed and the sound was crazy, grief filled and cold. “Who said anything about love, Dean?”  
  
Sam looked into his brother’s eyes, and all the remaining resistance seemed to drain away from him. His lips quivered and his words came from the depths of his soul, burning their way to his mouth.  
  
“I was  _raped_ , Dean.”  
  
The older Winchester stared at his brother dumbly. Sam was shaking, he was furious, he was tired. And apparently he had just said something very, very bad. Weirdly enough, Dean wasn’t sure he’d understood what it was. It felt like there was something thick in his ears blocking all sound. So instead of reacting, he just stood there and looked at Sam, relaxing his arms and hands, letting the bottle of vodka fall with a thud on the carpet.  
  
“What did you say?”  
  
Sam closed his hand into a tight fist and bit down on his knuckles. His breath was erratic and his knees threatened to buckle under the weight of his body.  
  
“It’s true, Dean. I just… I couldn’t tell you before.”  
  
And then the words finally cut through the thickness of disbelief and reached Dean’s awareness.  _Sammy was raped_. There was no fling, no hook up, no love or experimenting, just the brutal, cruel truth of violence unfolding in Dean’s mind.  
For a moment Dean didn’t even know what to do. He opened his mouth and closed it again three times. He didn’t know whether to reach out and touch his brother, shake him, break down with blind, seething rage, or if he should just take off on a raid to kill who ever had laid hands on his baby brother and not return until that was taken care of.  
  
“Who… how…?” Were the first words to make it past his shock.  
  
Sam shrugged.  
  
“It doesn’t matter, Dean. It was a long time ago.”  
  
Dean blinked repeatedly, the thick barrier of disbelief coming and going, and making it difficult to make out Sam’s words in the fogginess of incredulity. He swallowed hard and found his voice, pretty much at the same time he lost control over the furious heartbeats slamming in his chest.  
  
“How long ago?” He managed to ask calmly.  
  
Sam tried hard to keep looking at Dean, but in the end the past got the best of him and his eyes found comfort on the floor, staring at the bottle of booze spilled out on the carpet.  
  
“Sam? How long?” Dean asked again, his voice stern this time.  
  
The very tone of voice used by his brother triggered another wave of raspy, quick intakes of breath. Sam was forced to meet Dean’s eyes again and was startled when his brother grabbed both of his arms and insisted on locking eyes with him.  
  
“I… I was…” Sam stuttered. Dean’s eyes looked wild. “I was twelve.”  
  
“ _What?!”_ Dean let go of his brother and put a hand on his forehead. The room was spinning. He shut his eyes, it was spinning fast, and Dean wanted to believe it was just the alcohol but he knew it wasn’t. It felt like the very earth was shattering beneath his feet. “Sam!” He grabbed his brother’s arms again, but this time Sam let himself fall seated on the bed.  
He’s eyes were dry and thoughtful, and he kept them on the floor, dreading any kind of eye contact.  
  
“Sam, talk to me, please, what happened to you?” Dean crouched before his brother and searched for that pair of eyes that wanted to avoid his at all costs.  
  
“It was a long time ago, Dean. I just… I just forgot it, okay? Just buried it like it had never happened, and I was doing fine!” He looked at his brother.  
  
“Sam, what the hell happened to you? You need to tell me, okay? How come you’ve kept this hidden for so long?”  _A kid_ , Dean thought, and his heart ached. As if the news wasn’t bad enough – knowing his brother had fallen victim to the worst kind of monster – did he also have to accept that Sam was just a boy when it took place? And that he went through it alone?  
“Where were dad and I when it happened?” Dean’s brain was working furiously.  
  
“Dad was hunting.”  
  
“What about me? Where was I?”  
  
“I don’t know. Dad had been gone for over a month, and we hadn’t heard from him. We had no more money or food. Bobby wasn’t answering his phone, and we were both very worried. You went looking for him, I guess. You wouldn’t take me with you.”  
  
“Well, of course not, you were too young.”  
  
“So you made me promise that I wouldn’t let anyone in. You made me swear Dean, that no matter who knocked on the door, I was not to open it.”  
  
Dean felt something frozen burn in the pit of his stomach.  
  
“I didn’t mean to break the rule, Dean, I don’t know what happened… I just remember this man knocking, a couple of days after you left, and he started to talk to me through the door, and he knew stuff.”  
  
“What kind of stuff?”  
  
“Well, stuff that only we could know, like how Dad was a hunter and how you had gone looking for him and you were now in great danger.”  
  
“Damn it, Sammy…” Dean shook his head.  
  
“I wasn’t going to let him in, but he said stuff… Stuff from our past, and said dad needed him to get something in his office to save you both.” Sam paused and stared at his hands. “I trusted him.” The ring of helplessness in his brother’s voice made Dean flinch. “I let him in and then…” Sam shut his eyes tightly and shook his head, clearly fighting off memories. Dean saw a shudder rake his younger brother’s body, and Sam pulled away from any physical contact. “I’m sorry.” Sam said at last.  
  
“Sam? Sam?” Dean still felt vertiginous and lost. “Why didn’t you tell dad?”  
  
“I couldn’t! He said he would kill you both if I said anything.”  
  
 _‘Typical fucking monster’_ , Dean thought angrily.  
  
“You should’ve told us, Sam.” Dean sounded raspier than he intended and Sam once again lowered his gaze and swallowed hard.  
  
“I couldn’t tell dad…” He confessed.  
  
“What about me?” Dean frowned. “Didn’t you trust me?”  
  
“I did, but-“  
  
“But what?”  
  
Sam didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked away and closed his eyes, fighting off the dizziness caused both by his drunken state and his grieving.  
  
“You told me not to open the door, Dean. You made me promise.” Sam found his brother’s eyes. “And I let you down.”  
  
“Sam…”  
  
“I thought you’d be mad at me as you did whenever I broke the rules…”  
  
It was Dean’s time to shut his eyes.  
  
“I was just a kid, and I thought…”  
  
Dean waited.  
  
“I thought I was being punished for disobeying you.”  
  
“Damn it, Sammy.” Dean pulled his brother into a hug, tight and greedy, and before he knew it he was rocking Sam softly, pulling every fiber of strength in his body not to break down. Sam needed him to be strong.  _He_ needed  _himself_  to be strong too.  
  
 _‘It was my fault,’_  something screamed in Dean’s mind, making him hold on more tightly to Sam.  _‘I left you alone, I wasn’t there… I should’ve taken care of you’._  
  
“I should’ve taken care of you,” Dean spoke his thoughts, his eyes wide and still unbelieving.  
  
“Dean, we thought dad had died, you had to go after him.” Sam broke the embrace and assured his brother.  
  
“No, I shoud’ve been there for you. I… I’m so sorry, Sammy.”  
  
“It’s not your fault.”  
  
And then another thought came racing to him and Dean shook his head violently.  
  
“Fuck, and all this time I was teasing you…” Suddenly he felt mortified at all the jokes. “I am so fucking sorry. Please forgive me.”  
  
“Dean, it’s alright. You didn’t know.”  
  
But Sam’s words had little to none effect on Dean’s growing guilt.  
  
Dean got to his feet and a surge of anger raked him from head to toe.  
  
“Fuck this! This is messed up, this is so fucking wrong in every possible way. I can’t… I don’t think I can sleep again until I get my fucking hands on this motherfucker.”  
  
“Dean, please. It was so long ago. Just let me forget it.”  
  
Dean turned to his brother, sitting on his bed and looking miserable. There were no words to express what Dean felt right now. But between the urge to kill who ever had inflicted such harm upon Sam with his bare hands and the pain in his heart making him want to hold on to Sam and make sure nothing would ever, ever hurt him again, Dean just didn’t know what to do next.  
  
“There’s something else,” Sam started. “Now, I don’t know if it’s because of the succubus words and everything it stirred, or if it has something to do with the case we’re working.” He paused.  
  
“What?”Dean urged him on.  
  
“I’ve been having nightmares, Dean.” Sam was visibly struggling to speak about it. “I don’t always remember them when I wake up, but I know they are about that day.”  
  
Dean stared at his brother for a moment before cursing himself again.  
  
“I’m such a jerk, I can’t believe you had to listen to all my crap.”  
  
“It’s fine, really. I know you were just trying to look out for me.”  
  
Was he? Dean thought. Were his motives always this pure? What about the selfish desire to satisfy his curiosity and please something that lived very deep within him, way too deep to be reached at will? Dean forced himself to push away these thoughts, for his own sake.  
  
“Whatever it is, we’ll figure this out.” He said.  
  
Sam nodded. The adrenaline was coming down, and his upset stomach made him frown.  
  
“Dean. I’m really sorry for not telling you. At first I was just afraid of doing so. And then, as the days went on… I know it sounds weird, but it’s like this was erased from my mind.”  
  
“It’s okay, we’ll be fine.” Dean reassured, with little conviction. How could he ever be fine knowing what Sam had gone through? What he had gone through all alone when he was just a boy?  
  
“By the way, you were right. Apparently I can’t hold my liquor all that well.” Sam smiled sadly. “I think I’ll crash before my stomach wins the fight over here.” Sam took a hand to his stomach and flinched.  
  
“Alright.”  
  
Dean didn’t know what to say. There were a thousand things he wanted to know, but he didn’t have the heart, right now, to make Sam tell him any further. It was enough information for a night. Hell, for a lifetime. He watched his brother nestle in bed and fall heavily asleep ten minutes later.  Dean pulled a blanket on top of him and sighed, with dismay, at the empty bottle of vodka. He was fully sober now, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t do with something to numb his wrecking nerves.  
  
Knowing that sleep would not come, Dean didn’t even bother trying. Working on the case, however, didn’t seem like it was going to be able to pull Dean out of his reverie of thoughts. He had fallen into an endless circle of guilt and what ifs and how come and revenge that he seemed unable to escape from.  
  
Around three in the morning he was finally pulled out of his contemplative state by Sam’s erratic and shallow breathing.  
Dean looked in his brother’s direction and realized Sam was having a nightmare. He thrashed and frowned, tugging the covers off his body.  
  
“Hmm.”  
  
Dean got up and walked closer to the bed.  
  
Sam gasped and from his unconscious mind there came a small, frail sound of fear. Perhaps much like the one he had issued when he was just a little boy falling prey in the hands of evil.  
  
“Sam,” Dean called out softly, sitting on the bed next to Sam’s head. “It’s okay, buddy…” Dean swallowed hard, all of his composure cracking and leaking away as he reached out his fingers and brushed sweaty bangs off Sam’s forehead.  
“Dean…” The younger brother murmured sleepily, his eyes never flicking open.  
  
“Yeah, I’m here, Sammy. I’m right here and nothing will happen to you.”  
  
Sam’s fingers found the hem of Dean’s jacket and he curled his fingers around it, holding on. The small gesture brought a memory back so fast Dean didn’t even know what hit him.  
  
  
  
 _He opened his sleepy eyes and fought against drowsiness._  
  
 _“Sam?”_  
  
 _The five year old boy was standing by his bed, clutching one of his few toys and meeting Dean with eyes full of pleading._  
  
 _“What are you doing up? Go back to bed.” Dean groaned._  
  
 _“Can I sleep with you tonight?” The boy asked sheepishly._  
  
 _Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes._  
  
 _“Sammy, you know these single beds are too small for that. Besides, you always end up kicking me and taking all of the blanket. What’s wrong with your bed?”_  
  
 _“Nothing.”_  
  
 _Dean studied his little brother._  
  
 _“Then just go back there and sleep, okay? We need to be up early in the morning.”_  
  
 _Little Sam just stood there and saw his brother turn in bed and pretend to continue sleeping. Dean waited a few minutes, and since he heard no sound of his brother moving away, he turned to face him again._  
  
 _“What?”_  
  
 _“I had a nightmare.”_  
  
 _Dean sighed again. “Sam, you know there’s nothing to worry about. You’re safe. Dad won’t let anything happen to us.”_  
 _Dean looked into Sam’s fearful eyes and his voice softened._  
  
 _“Okay, Sammy? Now go back to bed, I’ll wake you up tomorrow.”_  
  
 _Sam didn’t say anything for the next minute or so. Then he stared at his little feet and spoke again, softly._  
 _“I dreamed about mom.”_  
  
 _Dean blinked a few times and listened._  
  
 _“I dreamed she was on the ceiling, Dean. And she was burning and screaming. I don’t want to see that again. It’s scary.”_  
  
 _Dean’s heart ached with pain at the memory. Sam was just a baby when that had happened, and he had never, not even once, said anything that would indicate he remembered what he had seen._  
  
 _With a long, heavy sigh, Dean beckoned his brother closer. “C’mere, Sam,” he lifted the covers as an invitation. Sam didn’t wait. He was up on his brother’s bed in a heartbeat._  
  
 _“Thanks.”_  
  
 _“It’s okay.” Dean felt his chest heavy with concern and love for his little brother. If he could he would live his life to make sure Sam didn’t have to be scared like that ever again. “Just try and sleep, okay? No farting or snorting or I’ll kick you out.” Dean tried to sound cranky but failed, because Sam was laughing now._  
  
 _“Okay, I promise.”_  
  
 _“Right.”_  
  
 _Dean turned around, his back to his brother, and shut his eyes. He felt Sam nestle against him, and felt a small hand clutch the hem of his shirt and hold the fabric tightly between warm fingers._  
  
 _“Night, Dean.”_  
  
 _“Goodnight, Sammy.”_  
  
  
  
Dean wiped a betraying stream of tears furiously, glad there was nothing but the silence of the night to witness his pain.  
“Night, Sammy. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” Dean told himself, watching his brother’s breathing resume a calm, steady rhythm and his features relax into comforting sleep.  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
 _tbc...._  
 _  
_


	5. Chapter 5

  
Chapter 5  
  
  
Morning came to find the two Winchester boys still in bed. Sleep had eventually won over, and Dean had fallen into its resting arms in his sitting position by Sam’s head. The younger man had turned to the other side in the middle of the night, and was the first to open his eyes when something vibrated against his back.  
  
“Dean?” Sam called, turning around to find his brother in the process of shrugging off sleep and reaching for the cell phone in his pocket.  
  
“This is him. Hi, Bobby.” Dean said.  
  
For a moment Sam remembered the previous night, the secret he had unleashed from his past, and the nightmare that ate at him at night. He wondered if Dean had heard him say something and come to his bed. Sam felt his heart warm, defying all the hurting and scars, at the soothing comfort his brother made him feel being this near. All the arguing, teasing and bickering aside, Sam could never find in anyone else in his life the feeling of safety Dean made him feel just by being there.  
  
“Yeah, we got it. See you in a few then. Bye, Bobby.”  
  
Sam shut the door to his thoughts and came back to reality.  
  
“Does he know what’s causing the nightmares?”  
  
“No, not yet. But he’s already there and he’s going to meet us for lunch to get us up-to-date.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
Dean watched as Sam got to his feet and started to get dressed. He engaged in pretty much the same, collecting socks and boots from the floor and packing whatever it was they needed to take with them. He stole a few glances at his brother with the corner of his eye, unable to stop himself from checking on Sam.  
  
After knowing what he did now, Dean thought it’d be hard just to get up and keep going, but it was not like they had any choice in this life of theirs. Nothing could change the past. Despite the mental note Dean made of finding the one who had inflicted such pain upon his brother, there was nothing else he could do. Except, perhaps, feel the aching in his heart, and fight the urge to wrap Sam in his arms so nothing would ever hurt him again.  
  
“Let’s go?  
  
Dean stood in front of Sam and the younger brother tensed despite himself, afraid Dean was going to say something about last night.  
  
“Are you okay?” Dean asked slowly, looking searchingly into his eyes.  
  
Sam didn’t want to just lie, so he actually took a few seconds and considered the question.  
  
“I’m fine, Dean,” He nodded. “As I said, it was a long time ago.”  
  
“What about the dreams?”  
  
Sam chewed on his bottom lip and looked at his feet.  
  
“Not so good. But we’re going to bust whatever is causing them soon, right?”  
  
“Right.” Dean agreed.  
  
“So, let’s?”  
  
Sam felt uncomfortably vulnerable under his brother’s gaze.  
  
“Sammy…” Dean started. “I’m here for you, okay? Just remember that.” Then he gave his brother’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.  
  
“I know. Thanks, Dean.”  
  
He nodded and they both headed to the Impala.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
The drive to the small town was a silent one. Although there was music coming from the radio, neither brother said anything. Sam was reading over the papers they had picked up at a gas station to see whether there was anything new to the case.  
  
Dean concentrated on the road ahead, while his mind was wildly trying to go back in time and prevent his kid brother from going through what he had. Sam had told him it wasn’t his fault, of course. But the truth was that this was Dean, the one supposed to look after his brother when his father wasn’t around. John hadn’t taken Dean with him that one time he went hunting. He had told him to stay home and  _look after_  Sam.  
  
Dean squeezed the wheel and took a deep breath. The thought that his disobeying his father and leaving Sam all alone had resulted in his baby brother being brutalized was, perhaps, more than he could handle. The guilt had started slow, but was now spreading quickly through his system, like poison in his blood. If he had stayed, as he should have, his little brother wouldn’t have been the victim of such a cruel, evil act. Now, Dean had seen plenty of cruel, and plenty of evil, alright. But what kind of sick monster took advantage of a scared twelve year old boy, alone at home, abused and threatened him?  
  
Dean wondered what their father would have said if he had known that Dean’s leaving had caused Sam to be violated in their own home. The thought of failing his dad, and of failing Sammy, was quickly eating a hole at him, and Dean had to keep his self control at its very best not to let it get the best of him. They needed to work now, not mourn the past.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
They met Bobby for lunch in a diner after the older hunter had already been around town interrogating people.  
  
“So, what have you got?” Sam asked while their order didn’t arrive.  
  
“I talked to the people who reported having nightmares in the past few days. I checked their bedrooms but there was no EMF.” Bobby said.  
  
“Anyone said anything about smelling sulfur?” Dean asked.  
  
“Not to me. There were no visions, no monsters, nothing unusual, except for what was happening in the minds of those having the nightmares. They seemed unable to tell dream from reality, and that’s what caused the casualties.”  
  
“Do we know something that could do that?” Sam asked.  
  
“I’m checking all I know about gods, seeing if maybe there’s one who gets off on inducing fear stricken dreams.” Bobby said.  
  
The three of them had their lunch and spent the afternoon talking to more town residents who seemed to be suffering from the nightmare plague. They conducted interviews and scans, read police files and decided to call it a day not knowing much more than they did when they had started.  
  
They checked into their motel rooms, Bobby had one to himself and the brothers were going to share another.  
  
“You know, perhaps the night will tell us more than anything we’ve learned during the day.” Bobby said as they drank a beer.  
  
“How’s that so? You think one of us is gonna have nightmares?” Dean asked, and the moment he did so, his heart skipped a beat and he eyed Sam.  
  
The younger Winchester tensed immediately and stared at the table, well aware that Bobby had sensed something off in their exchange of looks. Sam felt unable to meet either man’s eyes for a moment.  
  
“Well, yeah… Let’s hope so, right?” Bobby asked.  
  
“Yeah, let’s hope so.” Sam said, perhaps a bit too eagerly.  
  
That earned him another look from Dean, a worried, brotherly look that warmed him inside, despite his sudden aloofness.  
  
“You boys alright, there?” Bobby asked.  
  
“Yeah, why?” Both Winchesters said in unison, which only added to whatever suspicion Bobby might have of something strange between them.  
  
“We’re fine, Bobby.” Sam said.  
  
“Okay then, see you idjits tomorrow.”  
  
They watched him stand up and leave the room.  
  
“How are you?” Dean asked the moment they were alone.  
  
“I’m fine. Just… Dean? Please don’t tell Bobby anything, alright?”  
  
“Sam… I won’t, but… This might come to it if your nightmares get worse, don’t you think he’ll notice?”  
  
“Dean, please. I don’t…” Sam’s lips tightened. “I can’t have him knowing too. It’s bad enough…”  
  
“That I know?” Dean finished for him.  
  
“You know what I mean.” Sam said, more softly.  
  
 _‘Yeah’_ , Dean thought. He supposed that if he had been the one with such a painful memory of being victim to disturbing violence, he wouldn’t like it broadcast either.  
  
“I get it, Sammy.”  
  
“Thanks.” Sam put down his beer and stood up. “Good night, then. See you in the morning.”  
  
Dean watched his brother kick off his shoes, and fall on the bed, jeans and shirt still on. Against his will, Dean went to bed as well, having nothing to do about the case, but feeling no hint of sleepiness either.  
  
It was just a matter of getting in bed to have all his thoughts from before unleashed into his brain once again. Dean closed his eyes and saw an imaginary twelve year old Sam in desperate need of his help, calling out for his big brother to rescue him, and Dean just not being there for him, unable to stop the real nightmare Sam had lived.  
  
Not for the first time since he had learned about Sam’s past, Dean felt his eyes tingle with angry moisture. He wondered if anything he could ever do for Sam would make up for the pain he had neglected to save him from.  
  
Dean stayed up and watched over his brother’s sleep for as much as he could. In the end though, the poorly slept previous night kicked in, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
 _The man hovered on top of him, and he couldn’t move._  
  
 _“Help!”_  
  
 _The man grinned at the way he squirmed and kicked, but he wasn’t happy about the screaming._  
  
 _Sam tried again, but he had no voice. Nothing came out of his throat except for gasps, and one particularly throaty whimper when the pain began._  
  
‘No, no, no, no, no stop!’  _His mind screamed. The man seemed to read his thoughts, and he spoke to him through his most anguished pain._  
  
 _‘You have to be mine, I have to claim you.’ The voice coaxed._  
  
 _But Sam didn’t want to hear that voice, he just wanted to get away from the burning, the searing, the scarring. Why was that happening to him?_  
  
 _‘Shhh, it’ll be over soon.’ The voice promised._  
  
 _But the pain only seemed to get greater and hotter, and Sam felt himself floating out of his body, his mind desperately trying to find a way to disconnect with the harm being inflicted upon him, his thoughts trying to hide, to block it…. He squeezed his eyes shut and hid himself away, finding shield in a corner of himself where he wasn’t being abused, where he didn’t feel so utterly abandoned and scared._  
  
  
Sam sat on the bed and looked around. Dean was asleep in his bed, which meant he hadn’t woken him with his dream.  
  
Good. He ran a shaky hand through his sweaty bangs and checked his watch.  
  
5:00am.  
  
 _‘Good enough to me’_ , Sam thought, getting up and going over to the table, where he turned on his laptop and started to work.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
When Dean woke up that morning he didn’t find this brother, so he went straight to Bobby’s room to discuss their next move.  
  
He found the older hunter drinking a cup of coffee and reading an old book. He helped himself to some and sat across from him.  
  
 “So, anything new?”  
  
“Another nightmare induced death.”  
  
Dean took the paper Bobby pushed at him.  
  
“Man has a heart attack in the middle of the night. He was sleeping, no monkey business, his wife said. We can’t be sure but I’ll be damned if it ain’t the same thing causing it.”  
  
“Nothing in the books?”  
  
“There are many creatures that feed on people’s fears, but they usually either kill and eat the vic or make sure they live long and frightened. Whatever is doing this doesn’t care for either.”  
  
Dean nodded, sipping from his coffee and arching his eyebrows at the taste of alcohol. He eyed Bobby.  
  
“Really? This early?”  
  
“What’s the big deal? It’s good, isn’t it?” Bobby smiled.  
  
“Yeah,” Dean agreed, taking another sip. “Guess I sort of need it too.”  
  
There was a small silence in the room, and the Winchester realized he was being studied.  
  
“Dean, where’s Sam?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Dean tried to play it cool, despite the dangerous beat his heart skipped. “Thought he might’ve told you where he was.”  
  
“I saw him leaving very early this morning. He looked absolutely distressed.”  
  
Dean’s features tightened a little.  
  
“Didn’t you ask him where he was going then?”  
  
“No, when I thought of doing so he was already far. I figured he wasn’t in a very chatty mood.” Bobby stared at the younger man. “What’s up with you boys?”  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
“Aw, c’mon, Dean. I’ve known you two since you were too young to clean the snot off your noses. I know something’s off. You two had a fight?”  
  
“No… no.”  
  
“Then what is it? Sam is acting all aloof and weird… I mean, more than the usual, you know. And you…”  
  
“What about me, Bobby?”  
  
“You are here with me but it’s like you’re in a completely different place. What’s going on in that mind of yours, eh Dean?”  
  
Dean thought about Sam’s words and the way he had clearly asked Dean not to say anything. The weight on his shoulders was, however, crushing him harder by the hour, and Dean struggled with his growing guilt.  
  
“Spill it.” Bobby commanded.  
  
Dean’s eyes strayed, as if looking for some kind of comfort that wasn’t there. Then, when he thought he was going to speak, his throat tightened and for a moment Dean was almost unable to stop a flow of tears on their way out. He took a deep, calming breath and regained control of his wild emotions, and only spoke again when he was sure he’d be able to keep his shit together.  
  
“Sammy was raped, Bobby.”  
  
The man sitting across the table from him raised his eyebrows and blinked. Dean knew exactly what he must be feeling.  
  
“Come again?”  
  
Dean sighed. He felt shitty for betraying Sam’s trust, but he thought that if he didn’t speak about it he would go nuts.  
  
“Brace yourself because there’s more.”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?”  
  
“Sam was raped when he was twelve years old, dad had been out hunting for weeks, we’d heard nothing from you and I…” Dean’s voice failed him at this point. “I,” he tried again, despite the hurt it caused. “I had left looking for you guys, leaving him all alone.”  
  
“Dean, is it true?” Bobby begged, his eyes now sharp again, after the moment of incredulity.  
  
Dean’s answer was simply look at his friend and let him see the pain cracking through him.  
  
“Damn!” Bobby stood up and started to pace around.  
  
Dean stared down at the table.  
  
“How could this have happened? How come he’s only told you this now?”  
  
“Well, he didn’t. We ran into a succubus, intercepted her when she was about to feed off a couple’s making out session, and in exchange to let us go and go back to sleep she said she wanted the blood of a virgin.”  
  
Bobby crooked an eyebrow.  
  
“I know. I told her she was pretty much screwed asking this from us. So she said she’d settle for half a virgin. Someone who had never been  _taken_.” The word still caused shivers to break on his skin. “She wouldn’t take Sam’s blood.”  
  
“I can’t fucking believe it. He was just a kid!”  
  
Dean shut his eyes and was glad he was sitting. His knees were weak and he wasn’t sure he had enough strength to have that conversation on his feet.  
  
“I know. And he didn’t want to tell me anything. You were right, we sort of had a fight about it, and then he drank half a bottle and spilled. He says he’s okay…”  
  
Bobby studied the boy he knew so well, and read Dean’s anguish like he would a book.  
  
“But you aren’t, right?”  
  
Dean lowered his head and shook it.  
  
“How can I be?” When he eventually lifted his eyes to Bobby they were moist. “I failed him, Bobby.” He blurted, and wiped furiously at the wetness he felt escaping his eyes.  
  
“What are you talking about?” Bobby placed his hands flat on the table and locked eyes with Dean.  
  
“I was supposed to watch out for him.” Dean got to his feet, giving in to his self loathing and anger, because anything was better than the pain in his heart. “I had one job only when I was growing up, and that was to take care of my little brother. Protect him!” Dean’s bit on the inside of his bottom lip to stop it from quivering. “I let Sam be hurt on my watch…”  
  
“Dean!” Bobby’s voice softened. “Don’t be stupid… You were a kid yourself. You thought your father was dead, and hell, who could blame you with the life he led? It was your duty to see what was going on. You can’t blame yourself for this, this is not your fault.”  
  
But Dean just shook his head. Bobby didn’t understand. Sam was  _his_  responsibility. He had neglected the person who needed him the most, who trusted him the most, and left him vulnerable in the hands of pure evil.  
  
“You have to stop blaming yourself. I mean it.”  
  
“I can’t! I want to go back in time and fucking kill the bastard who dared touch him. I want to shred him to pieces and then bring him back so I can kill him again.” Dean’s pain leaked through his speech. “But I can’t go back in time and it’s killing me.”  
  
Both men fell silent when Sam walked in through the door.  
  
“I didn’t see you there so I thought you’d…"  
  
Sam didn’t finish his sentence. The younger brother didn’t need supernatural powers to know what was going on and what they had been talking about. He felt the way Bobby laid eyes on him, eyes full of hurt and… _pity_. And then he looked at Dean and the guilt in his eyes. That told him all he needed to know.  
  
“You told him, didn’t you?”  
  
“Sam…” Dean started.  
  
“Dean, I asked one thing of you, one thing only and you-“ Sam looked around, anger building up quickly inside of him. “You know what? I’m out of here.”  
  
“Sam, wait!” Bobby went after him as Dean fell back on the chair, burying his head in his hands and cursing under his breath.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
“Sam, wait!  
  
“Leave me alone, Bobby.” Sam was halfway through the parking lot when the older hunter caught up with him.  
  
“Will you just listen?”  
  
“I know he told you about my past. I asked him not to, Bobby. He promised he wouldn’t.”  
  
“Listen, Sam,” Bobby started. “I can’t begin to imagine the kind of crap you had to endure being just a goddamn kid. Really, I still can’t wrap my mind around this because it’s just too fucking wrong…”  
  
Sam’s eyes moved impatiently, wanting to be out of there and hidden away from the concerned eyes.  
  
“But right now you’re being selfish. You need to see that this ain’t just about you.”  
  
Bobby’s words had the desired effect, because Sam frowned, surprised, and started listening with more attention.  
  
“Listen to me, you fool. Your brother is hurting, Sam.”  
  
Sam felt his heart twitch and looked around, his nervous eyes trying to escape the lock with Bob’s.  
  
“I know he’s upset.”  
  
“Upset? Sam, Dean is friggin’ falling apart and you have no idea.”  
  
Sam widened his lost, greenish eyes and stared at his friend.  
  
“Don’t you see that?” Bobby went on.  “Dean lives his life to make sure you are safe, Sam. You might tell yourself different, but you’re everything he’s got, and he’s always made your welfare his priority.”  
  
Sam swallowed hard, slightly uncomfortable.  
  
“He loves you, you idjit. And he thinks that what happened to you is all on him.”  
  
“What? No, I told him it wasn’t his fault.”  
  
“Like that’s gonna work. You know Dean. He’ll worry it over and over again until it drives him fucking mad. I’ve been with you guys for what? 24 hours? And if you can’t see what is so clearly there then I’ll tell you, Sam. Your brother needs healing. He needs to know you are truly okay, or he will never stop punishing himself for something he couldn’t prevent. Snapping at him ain’t gonna help. He talked to me because he was clearly unable to keep it inside. If you hadn’t been too busy with whatever is going on in your head right now, you would see that too.”  
  
Sam considered that for a moment. He had been busy what with all the nightmares and thoughts he was fighting. They were getting stronger and seemed to consume most of his strength. Besides, what Bob said made sense, and though Sam would never, in a million years, blame Dean for what had happened to him, he knew it in his heart that his brother would make it personal no matter what. Which, Sam wasn’t keen on admitting, was terribly soothing.  
  
“I’m sorry.” He finally said. “I’ll go talk to him.”  
  
“Yeah, you two go and solve this so we can go catch the bastard that’s frying people’s brains in their sleep.”  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
Sam didn’t find Dean in the motel room anymore, but he didn’t have to walk much to find him either. There was an empty park behind the building structure, and Dean was sat in one of the visibly old swings. The grass was so tall it was almost up to his knees. His eyes were lost somewhere in the space ahead when Sam approached him and sat on the swing right next to him.  
  
“I’m sorry I told him, Sammy.” Dean said without even looking at his brother.  
  
“No. I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have asked you to keep it. It’s not your secret. I mean, you needed to talk to someone, I understand that.”  
  
“What about you?” Dean turned and faced Sam. “Didn’t you need to talk about it when you were just a kid and there was no one there for you?”  
  
Bobby was right. Sam could feel his brother’s pain. Sam had had all these years of not remembering and being able to act like it’d never happened. For Dean, though, the scar was fresh and bleeding.  
  
“I… I don’t know, Dean. At first yes… it was difficult. But… to tell you the truth I think I forgot it rather quickly.”  
  
Dean frowned.  
  
It was true, and Sam couldn’t explain why.  
  
“If it weren’t for the succubus and then this case we’re working, I don’t know if I would have remembered it at all.”  
  
Dean still looked very much confused.  
  
“I guess there’s some kind of PTSD that just makes people block what they don’t want to remember, right?”  
  
“Yeah… I guess so. But it shouldn’t have happened, Sammy…”  
  
“A lot of things in our lives shouldn’t have happened.”  
  
“I wish I’d been there,” Dean let his guard down and bared his pain. “I can’t forgive myself for letting you get hurt.”  
  
“Dean, shut up. It was not your fault.”  
  
“If I hadn’t left-“  
  
“Stop it!” Sam cut him off. “Don’t you dare bring this upon yourself. This is  _not_ on you, Dean.”  
  
“It just… it hurts, Sam.” Dean wiped angrily at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. “Knowing you needed me and I wasn’t there.”  
  
Sam didn’t know what else to say, so he pulled his brother into a hug and for the briefest of moments he felt Dean relax, bury his nose on his shoulder and breathe in deeply. Sam closed his eyes and relished the stolen moment of intimacy.  
  
“I wish I could make it right.” Dean spoke softly.  
  
“Me too.” Sam whispered back, with equal amounts of hope and despair in his voice. “Me too, Dean”  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
 _tbc...  
  
More coming soon... Thanks for reading, and feedback is always inspiring and welcomed. :)_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
  
  
“Alright, ma’am, you give us a call if something comes up,” Sam handed his fake card and the woman took it, closing the door and leaving the two young “agents” behind.  
  
They turned to Bobby and shrugged.  
  
“Nothing?”  
  
“Either we start sleeping around these people’s houses or we’re not gonna get much out of them in the day light,” Dean pointed out.  
  
They had done little to no progress during the day as far as cracking the nightmares case went. The three hunters spent time interviewing people about anything weird happening in the past few days, and other than the nightmares they had nothing. They started asking about new people moving into town, someone they hadn’t seen before, and that was when they seemed to have the smallest of leads. More than a few of the town people had mentioned a tall man being seen in the past days. They knew nothing else about him, though, other than that he was tall and brown haired. The town was neither fancy nor a hotspot for tourists, and the man had called attention for walking around in a black suit in the middle of the day.  
  
They had spent all day chasing this alleged suspect to no avail.  
  
Tired of all the dead ends, by the end of the day they were on the Impala driving back to their rooms, Bobby in the back seat, Sam resting his head against the window, his eyes closed.  
  
“Maybe we should split up, do some rounds in the middle of the night. See if there’s anything unusual,” Dean suggested.  
  
“Let’s do that. As soon as I grab something to eat,” Bobby agreed.  
  
  
 _“You’re mine, sweet, sweet boy… You’ve been marked, claimed, owned…”_  
  
 _“No…. no, please…”_  
  
 _The hands around his neck squeezed, and the weight of the man crushed him to the mattress. He remembered hoping it was all a nightmare that would go away, but the pain… the pain was so real…_  
  
  
“No!” Sam jumped on his seat, startled, his movement and scream so abrupt and unexpected that for a moment Dean nearly lost control of the Impala.  
  
“Jesus, Sam! What happened?” Dean took a few calming breaths when the car was back on the road.  
  
Sam was breathing rapidly and his eyes were wide open.  
  
Bobby was staring intently at him from the back seat.  
  
“Um… Nothing… I… I was just dreaming, I guess.” Sam felt his muscles tense to a straining point, but he didn’t want to worry his companions.  
  
“Did you just have a nightmare?” Bobby wanted to know.  
  
Sam felt utterly uncomfortable and wished there was an eject button from the car.  
  
“Sam?” Bobby insisted. When Sam didn’t answer he turned to Dean. “Since when has this been going on?”  
  
Dean frowned and avoided Sam’s eyes. “It was not the first time, right Sam?”  
  
“Look, I’m sure it’s nothing, alright? It’s just that whole succubus bringing back the past and…”  
  
“Sam, you tell me we’ve been working a case about people having nightmares, and you’ve been having them for quite a while now and just what? Fail to mention like it’s not important?” Bobby demanded.  
  
“Hey, Bobby,” Dean intervened. He could see where Bobby was going, and he couldn’t help but agree with him. Maybe he hadn’t want to make the connection before, but it was difficult to ignore it now. What were the odds of whatever was happening to Sam be nothing but mere coincidence? However, the look of helplessness on his brother’s eyes made Dean wish Bobby would shut up about it. “We didn’t say anything because we didn’t think it had anything to do with the case, right?”  
  
“You think? C’mon, Dean. You two know better than that.”  
  
To Sam’s relief, Dean’s cell phone started ringing and they all went silent.  
  
“Yeah?...” Dean listened for a few minutes. “Ok. Got it. We’ll be right there.”  
  
“What was that?” Sam asked, glad for the change of subject.  
  
“Some kid just had a nightmare and tried to stab her brother to death.”  
  
“Are they okay?”  
  
“Yes, parents were still awake watching TV, they heard the noise and stopped them. Kid got hurt, I think, but nobody died. She called us as soon as she could.”  
  
Bobby gave them a ‘this is not over’ look just as Dean turned the car around and started driving back.  
  
  
~ * ~  
  
Being, for the first time since they had taken the case, at the scene so close to when the incident had happened, they could certainly learn much more.  
  
“This place reeks of sulfur,” Dean said as soon as they entered the teens’ bedroom.  
  
“Why do you think nobody mentioned it before?” Sam asked. They walked around the room with the EMF device.  
  
“Some people just can’t tell what they’re smelling, they just know it’s something bad. The lady who threw herself out of the window, there was no one there to smell anything. The man who shot his wife, no witnesses either. Perhaps by the time the cops arrived the next morning the smell was already gone. It’s warm, and people leave the windows open.”  
  
“Bobby has a point. So, demon?” Dean arched his eyebrows.  
  
  
 _You can cry all you want, there’s no one here to rescue you boy._  
  
  
Sam blinked a few times and his heart raced. He looked around at the bedroom, empty save for his brother and Bobby, and tried to tell himself there was nothing wrong.  _‘I’m tired’_ , he thought, taking a few steps away from his friends.  
  
  
 _Daddy isn’t here, and guess what? Neither is big brother. You’re all mine, Sam Winchester…_  
  
  
“No.”  
  
“What?” Dean turned to face his brother and his heart sunk when he saw the look of fear in his eyes. “Sammy?”  
  
“No, get away from me! Leave me alone!” Sam cried and stepped back blindly, his knee stumbled on a chair and he fell on the floor, clumsily.  
  
Bobby stared at Dean with the same perplex worry and reached out for him.  
  
“Sam, are you okay?”  
  
  
 _The searing pain felt like fire licking his insides, and he was burning, burning… Please stop!_  
  
  
“NO!!” Sam kicked and moved until his back was against the wall, and he struggled against Bobby’s hands trying to pull him to his feet.  
  
“Sam,” Dean joined Bobby and touched his brother’s arm. “It’s okay, man, we’re here with you.” His chest was tight and he might have forgotten to breathe for a few seconds until Sam eventually stopped struggling and looked at them.  
  
“What happened?” He asked, confused. He looked pale and had trouble getting back on his feet.  
  
“This place is affecting you, Sam,” Dean said.  
  
“Now you go and tell me his nightmares have nothing to do with the case,” Bobby eyed Dean.  
  
The brothers didn’t reply. Dean helped Sam regain his composure and they all stared at each other, afraid of what to say next.  
  
  
~ * ~  
  
Back at the motel room Dean was awake still talking with Bobby. Sam had been unusually tired and even though he had insisted on staying awake and discussing the case, pretty soon he had fallen sound sleep on the bed, which caused Bobby and Dean to continue without him.  
  
The two men went over everything they knew about demons, trying to find anything that could explain why a demon had been causing nightmares in a small town, and why Sam had fallen victim to these nightmares as well.  
  
“We need to get him to talk,” Bobby whispered, casting a side glance at the younger man sleeping.  
  
Dean sighed, following Bobby’s eyes and watching Sam.  
  
“Dean, has it occurred to you that perhaps… Perhaps what happened to him so long ago wasn’t just an act of cruelty?”  
  
“What do you mean, Bobby?”  
  
“What if it was a supernatural act of cruelty?”  
  
Dean saw where Bob was coming from. Everything in their lives had always been strongly linked to the life they were forced to lead, pretty much every major event had had some connection to the occult. Why would this be any different?  
  
“I don’t think he can talk about it just yet.” Dean said.  
  
“Dean, I know you want to protect him, but Sam won’t wake up some day and feel ready to talk about the worst night of his childhood. He might have to, anyway. Despite being ready.”  
  
“We can’t do this to him, Bobby.” Dean ran a hand over his tired eyes and mouth. “We don’t know how much pain it will cause to open this up.” He couldn’t stop looking at his brother asleep on the bed with all the feelings of guilt and love he had been trying to manage in his chest.  
  
“Dean? How many people will have to die before we can talk to Sam about what he remembers?”  
  
That seemed to get to him. He knew Bobby was right, but that didn’t change the fact that it didn’t  _feel_  right.  
  
“So what, are you suggesting that we wake him up right now and make him talk?”  
  
Bobby nodded and then shrugged.  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“No.” Dean said. “Not now. He needs to rest.”  
  
“Ok, but tomorrow then. We’re not letting anyone else die or get hurt here, not if we can stop it.”  
  
Dean was forced to agree, despite the mixed feelings inside of him. He was just glad when Bobby got up and left, and they decided they would do whatever had to be done in the morning.  
  
The older brother was still up for a while longer. He took a quick shower and then laid down in bed, hoping he’d be able to sleep for a few hours and forget the difficult task lying ahead of them in the morning.  
  
  
~ * ~  
  
  
Sam was writhing in bed and the sheets were tangled. Dean’s eyes shot open as soon as a chain of clipped sounds of despair filled the silence of the room.  
  
“Sammy?” He pushed the blanket off his body and was beside Sam’s bed in a heartbeat.  
  
Dean had seen his brother struggle with a nightmare before, but this one seemed particularly vivid and violent. Sam was sweaty and out of breath, the throaty sounds that spilled from his lips were urgent and frequent.  
  
“ _Mmm… no… no…._ ”  
  
“Sam?” Dean put a hand on his brother’s forehead. “Wake up, Sammy.”  
  
The younger man didn’t seem to hear him. Sam thrashed and gasped, fighting the touch of Dean’s palm on his skin with all he had.  
  
“ _No, don’t_ …”  
  
“Sammy, it’s okay, it’s not real, wake up.” Dean tried to reach him.  
  
“ _Please…”_ Sam whimpered, the sound cutting through Dean’s chest like a silver blade.  
  
Dean reached out and held Sam by the shoulders, shaking him a little.  
  
“Sam- Oh, fuck!” Dean cursed when a pair of strong hands closed around his throat and squeezed, pulling him down on the bed, half atop his brother.  “Sam, it’s me, wake up!”  
  
Dean tugged frantically at the large hands closing around his neck and choking him quickly.  
  
Sam’s eyes were wide open now, and they burned into Dean’s forcefully, as forcefully as the grip on his neck.  
  
“Sam, … it’s me, Dean. Wake up…” Dean felt his eyes beginning to roll in the back of his head, and blackness swim in both sides of his limited sight.  
  
The pressure was still there, Sam’s eyes still unreadable and resolute.  
  
“….Sam…” Dean tried again, feeling his body begin to go weak and his head begin to feel lightheaded and confused. “… _Sammy_ …”  
  
And then, as quick as it had started, the pressure around his throat was gone.  
  
“Dean?” Sam blinked furiously now, his whole body shaking both from the dream and the confusion to what he had waken up to. “Dean, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”  
  
Dean let himself fall beside Sam on the bed. His throat ached and every breath burned like hell into his lungs.  
  
“I’m fine,” he forced himself to whisper when Sam started to freak out.  
  
“I don’t know what happened, I… I couldn’t control it…” Sam frowned, looking worriedly at Dean’s flushed face, and the red finger marks around his neck.  
  
“It’s okay, Sam. It was the dream.”  
  
Sam lifted himself enough to stare at his brother, now resting on his pillow. He swallowed hard at the fingers printed on Dean’s skin.  
  
“I could’ve killed you.” He murmured guiltily.  
  
“But you didn’t.” Dean added quickly.  
  
Sam let his fingertips trace the red, bruising marks he had just inflicted, and Dean shivered at the feathery touch on tender skin.  
  
“Sorry…”  
  
“Forget about me, how are you?” Dean asked, enjoying the light, gentle touch of his brother’s fingers on his neck.  
  
“Fine… I guess.”  
  
Sam tensed a little under his brother’s searching look. The closeness of Dean was both a blessing and a cursing in the that silent, dark room. He couldn’t seem to get past the fact that he was able to  _smell_  Dean on his sheets, and that it made him feel safe. And yet, being the object of interest of Dean’s sharp look made him shift uncomfortably on the bed. Dean always had that effect on him.  
  
“The nightmares. They’re getting worse, aren’t they?”  
  
Sam retreated his hand and nodded, this time avoiding his brother’s eyes.  
  
“Do you want to talk about it, Sam?” He lifted himself off the bed a little, in order to look more closely into his brother’s eyes.  
  
“No… Dean… no.” Sam shook his head.  
  
There was something childishly fearful in Sam’s eyes, and the thought that Bobby and he intended on making Sam talk about that painful memory in the morning made Dean hurt with helplessness. How could he heal Sam? What could he possibly do to make it all better? How could he erase all that evil and make Sam never have that scared, lost gaze in his eyes?  
  
Sam was very much aware of the intense way Dean was watching him. The mix of care and worry made his heart race. He wanted to look away, to move away… But he seemed unable too. Dean’s gaze was soothing; in his eyes, Sam saw all the promises of safety and love he could ever hope for. Then, instead of tensing, he relaxed and moved in closer.  
  
Perhaps it was the trust he saw there. Perhaps the need for approval that had always been there. Or maybe it was just what he had always seen in his brother’s eyes. Dean leaned in and his lips pressed against Sam’s.  
  
Soft. Tender. Warm.  
  
Sam’s eyes fell shut and his chest seemed to grow larger.  
  
The brief contact was gone as unexpectedly as it had started.  
  
Dean stared into his brother’s eyes. So much to say, and yet, he seemed to have just said all he needed.   
  
“Try and get some sleep, I think Bobby has something planned for tomorrow.” Dean said, his voice sounding slightly hoarse, and moved in order to get out of his brother’s bed.  
  
Sam nodded, and the moment Dean was gone he felt the weight of his past threatening to come knocking again every time he closed his eyes for more than two seconds.  
  
“Dean?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Sam felt a knot in his throat making it difficult to speak. “Can you… um… maybe move your bed closer?” Sam stared at the bedspread before him, unable to stare at his brother. He felt that if Dean said anything funny about it, or teased him somehow, he would just crawl into a hole of shame and never return.  
  
But Dean never said anything.  
  
He quietly dragged his bed closer, moved the nightstand to a different corner of the room, and kept dragging until the two beds were as close as one.  
  
Sam laid down again on his bed, his back to his brother. Relief was a sweet promise of no nightmares when he closed his eyes this time, and he heard Dean nestle on his side of the bed, surely just an arm’s distance away.  
  
When his brother stopped moving, indicating he had settled in bed, Sam’s mind was working furiously with old, familiar thoughts. His heart was racing like it could never be tamed again, and his fingertips were cold.  
  
There might never be a moment like that again, Sam thought.  
  
Dean’s eyes were still open when Sam moved abruptly and turned in his direction. He watched as his brother hovered over him for a split second before coming down, his mouth capturing his lips and lingering.  
  
Sam thought that if Dean pushed him away now he would die. He had understood that brotherly, loving kiss from before, but this now, this was all his life, all his feelings, all the thoughts he had always kept shut down for as long as he could remember. Sam’s lips were pressed tightly against his brother’s, seizing the silent exchange the night had allowed, diving head first into the scariest move of his life.  
  
Dean’s heart slammed against his chest. He felt a heat wave rake him from his chest to his lower abdomen, and then up again until his chest was tingling from inside. Sam was kissing him, but not like he had kissed him before. Dean felt Sam’s lips part against his own, and he could smell Sam’s breath inside his mouth, and he could feel the unmistakable wetness and heat of his brother’s tongue touching the inside of his bottom lip.  
  
When Dean’s hand surged, all of a sudden, against his face, Sam froze and braced himself for an explosion of anger and questions. For a an entire - long - moment, Sam held his breath and prepared himself to fall hard. The hand, however, never pushed him away and down into the core of his fear of rejection. Dean’s fingers tangled in his hair and brought him closer, and when Sam complied with the hand pulling him in, he felt a tongue finally come to meet his, and for the next moment there was nothing but hot white shock when his breath became Dean’s breath, and his tongue found comfort with another, just as eager to welcome him, to take him, to taste him.  
  
The thought that it was Sam, and that Dean was being given the chance to have from his brother something he could never have, save for, perhaps, a wild, drunken dream, struck Dean and spurred him on and into the kiss. He tasted what was being offered, warmth, softness, wetness. He kissed into his brother’s intimacy with a thirst to know, to understand, to conquest, he couldn’t begin to control.  
  
They kissed until everything was warmth and safety. They kissed until the latent curiosity of their desire was content. And they also kissed until the fear of never having that ever again was not so great and they could at last pull apart.  
  
When they did so they looked into each other’s eyes for a moment.  
  
Dean was on the verge of speaking something, the first thing that came to his mind, whatever he could say that would perhaps cut through the silent tension between them. But then he saw the look of insecurity in Sam’s eyes and decided not to say anything. He closed his lips and relaxed, and felt his brother do the same.  
  
Sam laid back on his bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t sleep, though, and neither did Dean.  
  
After a while lying there, in silence, Sam felt movement on his side, and a warm body nestle against his back. He felt Dean’s breath on the back of his neck and smiled.  
  
Sleeping seemed like a waste of time when you were this happy.   
  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
 _tbc...._


	7. Chapter 7

  
Chapter 7  
  
  
  
Sam woke up to the feel of an arm around his body. Memories from kissing Dean flooded his brain the second he realized he was awake, and his heart immediately picked up a furious rhythm. Oh God… what had they done? What had  _he_  done? Sam remembered being the one to take a small brotherly kiss into something further… something  _passionate_.  
  
He turned around in bed and to his surprise Dean was already up, looking at him lazily but seriously. Sam’s heart slammed even harder in his chest.  
  
“Dean…”  
  
“Oh, no, don’t you dare,” Dean cut him off.  
  
“What? How do you know what I’m going to say?”  
  
“Please Sam… it’s written all over your face that you’re going to start going on and on about how stuff was not supposed to have happened.”  
  
Sam lowered his gaze, feeling guilty as charged.  
  
“Well, but aren’t we supposed to…um, you know, say something?” He asked.  
  
Dean shrugged.  
  
“As far as I’m concerned we don’t ever have to talk about it,” Dean said.  
  
“Right,” Sam said, and his heart sunk in his chest with the sting of rejection. Dean seemed to see it crystal clear in his features, because his voice softened when he spoke again.  
  
“Hey, that’s not what I meant.”  
  
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I… I don’t know what I was thinking.”  
  
“Sam, just quit it, man. Don’t you dare apologize for that.”  
  
Sam looked at him, clearly confused.  
  
“But I thought-“  
  
Dean silenced him with a kiss. Just the pressure of his mouth against Sam’s for a few seconds, long enough to make Sam’s protests fall silent and his heart bathe in warmth. When Dean retreated Sam felt slightly out of breath.  
  
“What I mean is, we did it and it felt good, right?”  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
“So that’s all I care about. And if it gets too weird we don’t have to talk about it,” Dean finished.  
  
The mystery in his brother’s words was not lost on him. “So you’re not mad I… kissed you?” Sam wanted to make sure.  
Dean’s reply was a sly, proud little smirk that couldn’t help but make Sam smile mischievously in response.  
  
Suddenly there was so much going through his head, so many things he had thought about exhaustively, and all those feelings, and he wondered if Dean too-  
  
 _“Boys, you up already?”_  
  
The sound of Bobby’s voice cut through the spell and made them move quickly, getting up in seconds flat and pulling the beds apart.  
  
“Yeah, Bobby, coming,” Sam yelled while Dean took care of organizing whatever he thought might look weird.  
  
When he gave the thumbs up Sam let the hunter in.  
  
“So what’s up, Bobby?” He said.  
  
The older man looked from Sam to Dean, and seemed to pause and think, dwelling for a moment on the nervous shifting going on with them.  
  
“You two okay?”  
  
“Yeah, just let me grab my coat and we can head out-“  
  
“No, Dean,” Bob interrupted him. “There’s something we have to do before we leave here today.”  
  
And then Dean remembered his talk with Bobby from last night. It had been easy to forget all about it after having french kissed his little brother, Dean thought, feeling weak in the knees, but there it was, Bobby and what he thought they should do.  
  
“What is it?” Sam asked, noticing the way Bobby was looking intently at Dean. “What’s going on?”  
  
Dean gave up the stare, took a deep breath and threw his coat back on the chair.  
  
“Bobby thinks your nightmares can tell us something about the case,” Dean said, finding his brother’s eyes.  
  
Bobby took a deep breath as well and waited for Sam to speak something.  
  
“C’mon, Sam,” he urged when he didn’t. “You can’t deny you’ve been having weird dreams in this town, don’t you think we should look into it?”  
  
“Do you really think that me dreaming about something that happened so long ago can have anything to do with what is going on here now?” Sam asked.  
  
“We think it’s strange enough to be given a shot,” Dean admitted.  
  
Sam sat on the edge of the bed and seemed to ponder for a moment.  
  
“Thing is,” he began. “I don’t remember much. I know I’m having nightmares about it, but they’re completely gone as soon as I’m awake. There’s nothing I could tell you because I simply don’t remember,” Sam spoke honestly.  
  
“Well… I found this spell,” Bobby took an ancient looking piece of paper from his pocket. “It’s supposed to guide you through events you don’t want to, or can’t remember, and help you understand them. I ran an errand for the ingredients already.”  
  
“Damn it, Bobby…” Dean said, not without some anger.  
  
“Look, I did what I thought we should do, all right? You know I’m right, Dean. Now, I don’t know exactly what the side effects of this spell are, but it’s supposed to make you remember details of any chosen past memory.”  
  
Bobby took a small vial from his pocket with a purple looking liquid in it.  
  
Sam stared at the liquid and felt his muscles tense. He was unconsciously biting on the softer inner skin of his bottom lip, and he moved his fingers absently, eventually cracking a knuckle.  
  
“So, if I drink this it’ll take me back to that night when it happened?” He asked, feeling cold wetness begin to form in the center of his palms. “Like… Like I’m in that bedroom again?” His throat closed around his air passage and his voice failed. He looked at Dean, terribly aware of his lost, pleading gaze.  
  
Dean saw the fear in his eyes and now, more than ever, he felt his heart reach out and go to him. He wanted nothing more than to send Bobby away and pull Sam to his body, touch him, soothe him, promise him he would never have to go through that experience again. He wanted to comfort him from all future pain, and he also wanted that Sam kissed him again, trusted him again like he had last night, enough to let his secrets seep from his tongue and into Dean’s mouth.  
  
“Sam, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Dean ignored Bobby’s demanding stare and looked at his brother intently.  
  
Sam was glad for the support he could read there, but he had made up his mind.  
  
“Bobby is right, Dean. My nightmares may very well be connected to the case, and if I can do something then I don’t want anyone else dying because of bad dreams. I think it’s worth a shot.”  
  
Dean nodded, albeit not entirely convinced.  
  
“Alright then.”  
  
Bobby took a step in Sam’s direction and offered him the vial.  
  
Sam was aware of two sets of eyes watching him closely when he opened the lid. He smelled the content and downed it quickly, before he had any further time to consider the idea.  
  
The liquid burned down his throat, as it usually happened with magic potions, and the moment it was inside him Sam felt himself losing control, falling into his brain, and surrendering to the pain of having doors in his mind burst open with violence, letting his past spill its painful contents on the fearful, frail ground of his consciousness.  
  
“Arrghhhh!!!” He cried out at the violent outburst and the scary feeling making his head spin.  
  
“Sam,” Dean reached out for him. “Sam, are you okay?” Dean called worriedly.  
  
Sam’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and he reached out and held Dean’s hand with a bone-wrenching grip.  
  
“Ouch!” Dean cried at the pain in a moment and then the next moment Bobby watched as Dean fell on the bed beside Sam, his eyes too rolling in the back of his head, leaving only scary whiteness visible.  
  
“Boys? Dean? Sam?” Bobby tried calling out for them, but whatever spell had pulled Sam in, it seemed to have laid it’s claim on Dean as well.  
  
  
  
Dean felt his stomach ache and he felt nauseated. His mind spiraled out of control with images he tried desperately to understand. When he could eventually focus and regain some sort of control, he saw himself in one of the many rented houses John Winchester had left them in as kids. He blinked a few times and then he heard the door bell ring. Before he could think or say anything, though, he saw his brother, except it wasn’t the brother he was used to seeing now. Dean saw a much younger version of Sam widen his eyes and look at the door suspiciously.  
  
“Sammy?” Dean called.  
  
“Dean?” Young Sam’s voice asked.  
  
“Yeah, it’s me.”  
  
“Dean?” The boy asked again, going closer to the door, and Dean understood Sam hadn’t heard him at all.  
  
 _“No, not Dean, Sam. Your father sent me. He and Dean need your help. They’re in trouble.”_  
  
Dean saw his little brother frown and take another step closer to the door.  
  
“How do you know my name?”  
  
“Sam? Open up, kid, we don’t have much time. Your father sent me.”  
  
“You’re lying,” the boy said.  
  
“Sam, please… we don’t have time for this, your brother’s life is in danger as we speak.”  
  
Dean saw the boy reach out for the door with tentative fingers.  
  
“No! Sammy, don’t open that!” Dean couln’t help trying to warn young Sam, but he couldn’t be heard, or seen as he quickly found out. He was simply there as an unwilling witness as his brother opened the door and a stranger walked into the house.  
  
Dean looked at the man’s face but he couldn’t recognize him at first since the image was blurred. He listened to the exchange as the man’s words turned from pleading and helpful to malicious and authoritarian.  
  
“I want you to leave,” Sam was saying, and Dean could see that his brother understood something was wrong.  
  
“Just go away, you sick fuck!” Dean tried to charge at the man, but he couldn’t interfere in the scene unfolding before his eyes. Then, as the images moved fast, skipping scenes and shifting, blurring and focusing again, it struck Dean that he would be forced to witness everything Sam remembered about the episode.  
  
The realization made his head spin and he shook it violently, as if that could wake him up from what he was about to see.  
When he tried to shut his eyes and shield himself from the sight of the man grabbing his brother by the arm and dragging him, Dean felt a hand squeeze his own – Sam’s hand in real life. It was a desperate squeeze, a please don’t leave me squeeze, and Dean stopped trying to hide away from the memory and squeezed back.  _‘I won’t leave you, Sammy’_ , he thought, and hoped his brother could understand that.  
  
They were now in the bedroom and Sam’s fear was real and it pierced through Dean’s chest.  
  
“Oh, Sammy… if you only knew the plans I have for you… There’s no need to struggle, you belong to me already. Consider this a confirmation ritual…”  
  
The man’s eyes turned yellow and he grinned devilishly.  
  
 _Azazel._  Dean thought, his throat going dry and his heart racing. The man crawling on top of his brother was no other than the demon who had killed their mother and who they had chased before.  
  
“You son of a bitch, get off him! Get off him now!” Dean punched and kicked in the air, but it didn’t matter how hard he tried, he was more insignificant than a ghost. He really wasn’t there, and there was no way he could change the events about to take place.  
  
“No! No, please!” Sam cried. He began to thrash and soon enough the demon grew tired of his efforts. Sam felt his arms be stretched out above his head and bound there by an a powerful force, as if invisible ropes were holding him down.  
  
“Give in, Sammy… you can’t fight who you are.”  
  
The boy’s eyes were wide and fearful, and Dean was hypnotized by the pain he saw there.  
  
“Now, forgive my lack of finesse, my dear, but these kinds of things tend to need a fair amount of blood to work.”  
  
The man drove against him and Sam screamed, twisting blindly at the invisible force keeping him in place.  
  
Dean shut his eyes again and covered his ears with his hands. He couldn’t see that… he couldn’t… Sam’s cries made it feel like his very skin was being ripped off his face.  
  
In the motel room Dean’s hand was once again squeezed tightly.  _‘Don’t leave me,’_  came Sam’s adult voice as a whisper in his mind, and Dean opened his eyes obediently and died inside at the sight of the pain he could not avoid.  
  
“Stop!!!” Sam cried. “Help!!!” He looked at the yellow eyes burning into his soul, and felt the pain burning into his body hotly, searingly. “Stop!!!”  
  
“There’s no one coming to rescue you, Sammy. You need to be claimed, it’s part of who you are…”  
  
“Please …” Sam whimpered, unable to cower away from the demon.  
  
Dean fought with everything he had to move. He approached the bed once again and tried not to look at the yellow eyed demon and the way he ravished his brother. He focused instead on Sam’s agony.  
  
“Sammy…” He said, even though he could not be heard. ”Sammy, you have to be strong, please… please, man, you have to be strong, Sammy…” He murmured over and over, staring into his brother fear stricken, pain filled eyes. “I’m sorry, Sammy… please… please be strong…”  
  
Young Sam stopped crying. The man stepped out of the bed and the binding spell lost its grip on the boys’ limbs.  
  
Dean watched, his teeth clenched with seething rage as the demon walked closer to Sam’s head and touched his forehead.  
  
“Don’t worry, child. You will forget me soon and never feel the need to tell anyone about it, do you understand?” The demon touched Sam’s forehead and there was a small light in the room. “You’ll remember this when the time is right.” The demon said to the boy sobbing on the bed.  
  
Dean felt battered from the inside at the desolation lying ahead of him. He leaned closer to his baby brother and tried to touch him, to comfort him, but just as he tried to do so he was pulled out of the dream and back into the reality of the motel.  
  
“Ahhh!” Dean gasped, feeling his hand being released and his eyes adjust once again to reality.  
  
Sam gasped as well, feeling sick and shaky.  
  
Bobby watched with rising panic as the two brothers panted and gasped, and when he saw the broken look in Sam’s face he regretted having ever told him to relive the past.  
  
“Sam,” Dean called out his name as Sam took deep breaths to try and steady his heart.  
  
“What happened?” Bobby asked.  
  
Sam simply shut his eyes and shuddered, unable to form a coherent answer.  
  
Dean fought the wild feelings assaulting him bravely. Now was not the moment to break down. If he wasn’t strong enough, the image of what he held dearest in life being defiled by the very demon who had taken his mother away would destroy him. If Dean didn’t shield himself from the rage, the anger, he might collapse, and if he didn’t push Sam’s vulnerable cry for help out of his brain for the moment, he might lose his very sanity.  
  
“What?” Bobby stared into Dean’s flushed, serious face.  
  
“It’s Azazel,” Sam finally found his voice again, "he's the one causing the nightmares," he said and for a long time there was nothing but silence in the room.  
  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------  
  
 _tbc...._

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

Chapter 8  
  
  
  
Bobby looked at the two Winchester boys, not sure what he should do next. He wanted to make sure Sam was alright, but he didn’t know what he could possibly say to the white faced, serious young man.  
  
“Sam, how do you feel?”  
  
 _‘Sammy… you’ve opened the door to me…’_  
  
“I’m fine, Bobby. Let’s go. We need to find him,” Sam stood up, his head still in the process of clearing after the intense visit to the past.  
  
Dean just followed the two people when they left the room. He was afraid of speaking; for the time being all of the feelings he had inside were too wild to be voiced.  
  
In the car he started to drive towards the city under a tense, nervous mood.  
  
“Why do you think Azazel did that to you?” Bobby asked tentatively.  
  
“I don’t know. But I’m going to find that out before I kill him,” Sam said slowly, securely.  
  
 _‘Come to me, Sammy… you belong with me…’_  
  
Dean appreciated that. But Sam wouldn’t get near Azazel. He was all Dean’s. First their mother, then his baby brother… Dean doubted there was someone he wanted to kill more than that motherfucker demon.  
  
“What makes you think we’re gonna find him so easily? All this time he’s been hiding pretty well.” Bobby pointed out.  
  
Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could see yellow eyes haunting him when he did so. And as much as he wanted to tell himself differently, he knew there was a connection between Azazel and him. They would never find him unless Azazel wanted to be found, and Sam had a weird feeling that the demon was waiting for them now.  
  
“We’ll find him,” Sam said only.  
  
That caused Dean to look at him instead of the road.  
  
“Why’s that Sam?”  
  
The younger brother felt both pairs of eyes on him. He closed his eyes again and there was a third pair of eyes, yellow ones, smiling at him.  
  
 _‘Come find me, Sam… I’m ready for you’…_  
  
“Are you alright?” Dean asked when Sam shook his head as if trying to push a thought away.  
  
“I’m fine. We’ll find him.” He repeated.  
  
“Yeah, but how would you know that?” Bobby asked.  
  
Sam took a deep breath to steady himself.  
  
“Because he wants me.”  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
They drove around during most part of the day. Bobby and Dean were already in heaps of frustration, but Sam was calm. He knew what Azazel was doing. He was making them wait for nightfall. Demons seemed to have a thing for darkness, and this was not any different. When the sun set and the stars became visible, Sam felt the images and whispers in his mind become stronger, and they told him where to go.  
  
“Go back to the park near the end of the main avenue.”’  
  
“What? We’ve been there already. He must be hiding inside somewhere,” Dean said.  
  
“Go to the park, Dean. He’s there now.”  
  
Dean watched the look in Sam’s glassy eyes and it made him feel anxious inside. He hated the cold shimmer in Sam’s green eyes. Like he could see something, or hear something the other people in the car couldn’t.  
  
“He told you that?” Dean looked intently at him.  
  
Sam looked at his brother and his eyes narrowed. He nodded slowly, and there was something about Sam that made both Dean and Bobby nervous.  
  
Dean drove to the spot, and the park was deserted, except for a man standing right in the middle of it, wearing a black suit.  
  
The Impala was parked right away and three men emerged from it, all three carrying daggers that hoped to send Azazel back to hell where he belonged, and yet, all three very much aware that they were not dealing with their usual kind of demon.  
  
“Sam.” Azazel said without turning. His back was still to the three men who took careful steps in his direction, weapons in hand. “You came to me,” He turned and faced them, his yellow eyes flashing.  
  
Sam gasped. Those cat like, demonic eyes locked with his and Sam felt the ground move beneath his feet, shaking all the confidence he had inside and threatening his sanity with images he could not run away from.  
  
 _Something happened when the demon claimed him. When Azazel planted his seed within his body there was powerful black magic, and the boy felt torn from reality at that moment. Sam knew that Azazel had taken something from him and left something of his in return, buried deep inside his soul._  
  
Sam shivered and shut his eyes, the blade fell from his hand and he took a few steps backwards.  
  
“Sam, are you okay?” Dean looked at him worriedly when he started to stumble.  
  
His distraction was all the leverage Azazel needed.  
  
“Damn!” Dean cursed when a bolt of invisible strength pushed him forcefully against a tree, causing his dagger to fall from his hand.  
  
“Oh, no, you don’t get a say in this either,” Azazel sensed the third hunter trying to circle him and catch him off guard and sent Bobby flying to the ground, pinning him there with his powers.  
  
Sam was still shaking his head. The images spilled themselves in his brain, and Azazel’s voice was speaking from inside of him, like the demon was running in his blood, taking him and all his willpower.  
  
“Sammy!” Dean called out.  
  
It was like trying to walk through a haze of electrical interference that messed with his every sense.  
  
“C’mon, Sammy. Let me help,” Azazel forced him back to his feet while Bobby and Dean watched. “You knew I would be here waiting for you. You answered to my calling.”  
  
“What did you do to me?” Sam frowned, his nostrils flared with hatred and he faced his abuser.  
  
“I think you know what I did. I mean, I made sure you wouldn’t remember it for many years, and I can’t say the time was right… But that stupid succubus forced me to act faster.”  
  
“You didn’t answer me. What did you do to me that night?” Sam was all rage and fear inside, he didn’t know which of the emotions was fueling him harder, but the mix of them spurred him on, and he needed that.  
  
“Oh Sammy, don’t you know it by now? I claimed you. I…  _need_  you. You belong to me. Even mommy knew that.”  
  
Dean looked at Bobby, locked in the same invisible force a few feet away, and both struggled to break free from the spell.  
  
“What about this city? What have you done to it?” Sam looked at the dagger a few impossible feet away from his foot, on the ground.  
  
“The city was just a distraction, just something to catch your attention and buy me more time. I needed something to communicate with you.”  
  
“The nightmares,” Sam said.  
  
“Exactly. You’ve been shutting your mind to them, but now you’ve seen it all. Now you know, Sammy, and you’re ready to come with me. Thanks for the potion, Bobby.”  
  
“You fucking bastard!” The older hunter howled from his position on the ground.  
  
“Let the city go,” Sam commanded. “It’s me you want. Stop these people’s nightmares.” He looked deep into yellow eyes with all the courage he could muster.  
  
Azazel studied him, vaguely aware of the writhing and grunting from the two other men pinned by his power.  
  
“You want the city free?”  
  
“Yes!” Sam demanded.  
  
Azazel smiled, a crooked, ugly smile, and snapped his fingers.  
  
“It’s done. No more nightmares.”  
  
Sam slitted his eyes with disbelief.  
  
“Just like that? And why would you do what I asked?”  
  
“Sam, you and I… we shared something, didn’t we? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you… Consider the city a  _lover’s gift._ ”  
  
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Azazel!” Dean’s face was a mask of anger and determination and he breathed quickly and shallowly, his nostrils flaring.  
  
“I don’t think so.”  
  
“Fuck!” Dean groaned when he was pulled up in the air and tossed against the tree again. The felt blood trickling down the side of his forehead where the skin was broken by wood.  
  
“Let my brother go. It’s me you want.”  
  
“And will you come?” Azazel narrowed his eyes searchingly.  
  
“Sammy, don’t!” Dean frowned.  
  
“Let them live and you can have me,” Sam felt in his pocket for the small vial of holy water. He moved his fingers slowly to open the lid.  
  
“Sam, no!” Bobby screamed.  
  
“He’s right… I can’t fight it anymore,” Sam said, hoping he could fool Azazel.  
  
“No! Sammy!!” Dean widened his eyes as his brother walked closer to the demon. “Don’t do that!”  
  
“I’m sorry…” Sam was so close he could feel Azazel’s breath on his face.  
  
The demon beckoned him with his hand and smiled with triumph.  
  
“That’s it, Sam. You know you and I are connected. My thoughts are your thoughts…”  
  
Azazel leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. He caressed Sam’s cheek with his fingers.  
  
“Your thoughts arerrghhhhaaaaahh!”  
  
“I’m not so sure about that,” Sam splashed holy water on him, causing Azazel’s skin to burn and his grip on the other two hunters to weaken.  
  
Dean and Bobby quickly rushed to the demon, daggers in hand, but although the holy water had affected him, Azazel was still quick and charged at Sam, pinning him to the ground under his weight and closing his hands around his neck.  
  
“Don’t be stupid, Sam! You can not deny me!”  
  
Dean and Bobby stopped on their tracks when they saw the death grip Azazel had on Sam.  
  
 _"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-_  “ Dean started before a nod in his direction sent him flying and crashing again.  
  
“You can’t fight me!” Azazel groaned. “And neither can you, you belong to me, Sam! I gave you my blood, then my seed! _I am in you_!”  
  
“Let him go you sick bastard!” Dean screamed at the demon, and Bobby’s eyes went from Sam to Dean, his heart racing.  
Sam gritted his teeth and tried to push Azazel away.  
  
When Bobby decided to charge he was once again thrown forcefully onto the ground with nothing but a nod in his direction, landing on the grass and feeling his skin tear in different places.  
  
“Don’t you get it, Sammy? The nightmares, they’ll never be over for you. You’ll never be free from them unless you give in to me. I’ll be always here, inside your mind.” Azazel loosened the grip a little and touched a finger to Sam’s forehead. The younger man screamed under the burning touch.  
  
“Sam!”  
  
Bobby was torn between watching the scene unfolding in front of him and being powerless to stop it. He looked at his side and saw that Dean’s nose was bleeding copiously.  
  
“I will never be yours!”  
  
“You will never escape me!” Azazel groaned. “I’m in your head, and I’ll be in your every dream until I break you, Sam. Until you  _give in_!”  
  
“We’ll see about that.”  
  
And then Sam did something Azazel didn’t expect.  
  
Instead of pushing Azazel away from him, Sam’s hands pulled him to himself, until their lips came crashing down together.  
  
The moment they kissed the connection made light explode before their eyes, the burning sensation of having his thoughts invaded by the demon’s was almost too overwhelming to bear, but Sam focused his mind and started to scream the words in his thoughts -  _‘_ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica...‘_  Sam shut his eyes and fought to maintain the connection as his mind started shouting the words into the demon’s thoughts.  
  
Azazel began to struggle against Sam’s grip, his thoughts burning with the exorcism and the pain filling his veins at the intensity of Sam’s chant.  
  
‘ _Let me go!’_ His mind screamed into Sam’s, and after a while he could break off the kiss.  
  
Dean and Bobby watched, with shocked interest, as Azazel stumbled to his feet, groaned angrily and vanished into thin air.  
  
They hurried to Sam and were beside him in a heartbeat.  
  
“Sam, are you alright?” Bobby asked as Dean helped his brother stand up.  
  
“I’m fine,” Sam shut his eyes forcefully and frowned. “I feel like my head will explode, but other than that I’m good.”  
  
“What happened there?” Dean asked. He had dry blood on his forehead and cheek, and around his nose and upper lip as well.  
  
“I took a shot. He said we had a connection, right?”  
  
“Yes,” Bobby stared at him.  
  
“So I figured that I could take advantage of it. I started to exorcise him in my mind when I had this connection established.”  
  
Dean and Bobby exchanged a look of awe and smiled slowly.  
  
“You’re a genius, Sam,” Dean ruffed his hair enthusiastically.  
  
“Ouch,” Sam pushed the playful and somewhat painful stroke away.  
  
“He’s right, Sam. That was awesome!” Bobby exclaimed.  
  
“But Azazel is still alive,” Sam reminded them.  
  
“Yeah, and thanks to you, so are we,” Dean said.  
  
Sam didn’t let it show, but Dean’s approval made his chest warm inside.  
  
“And if we can trust that son of a bitch’s words, the city has been freed from the whole nightmares spell,” Bobby said.  
  
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see about that,” Sam said. For the moment they were okay, he thought, and hopefully the city would be okay too. But Sam had words resonating in his brain, promises of nightmares, threats of a binding spell that would always lead him back to the yellow eyed demon. He couldn’t speak about it right now, hell, he could barely wrap his mind around the idea that he was truly haunted by a demon who possessed some part of him.  
  
However, Azazel’s words echoed somewhere in his brain as Sam followed Dean and Bobby back to the car. The city might be alright, and they might be alright, but would _he_  be?  
  
Sam wished he could answer that, but the very thought of not being in control of himself made him shudder and fall silent.  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
  
 _tbc..._

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

Chapter 9  
  
  
  
They had just arrived at the motel when Bobby’s cell phone started to ring. They listened to him speak on it for a couple of minutes.  
  
“Boys? I have to go.”  
  
Dean looked at him through the mirror and Sam turned around on his seat.  
  
“Everything alright?”  
  
“Nothing’s ever alright, is it?” Bobby sighed. “An old friend needs help. I’m guessing vamps.”  
  
“Do you need any help?” Dean offered.  
  
“Nah, I think I can handle it. Besides, you should stay here one more night just to make sure the nightmares are really gone.”  
  
“Yeah, right. Take care Bobby.” Dean said.  
  
“You too. And give me a call if you need anything. Oh, and Sam?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Could I have a word with you outside for a minute?”  
  
“Sure.  
  
Dean watched as the older hunter got out of the parked Impala and was followed right after by his brother, both men walking away from his car. When they had put some good distance between Dean’s car and themselves, Bobby sighed, stared at his feet as if thinking of what to say next, and finally met Sam’s eyes. He held Sam’s shoulders and squeezed.  
  
“I’ve been hard on you, haven’t I?”  
  
“What? No.” Sam frowned.  
  
“I have, Sam. First because of Dean, and then to find out about the nightmares. I’m so sorry.”  
  
“Bobby, there’s nothing to apologize for, don’t be crazy.”  
  
“I told you to go find Dean because he was hurting, and then I insisted that you drink that spell that made you relieve that horrible night. I’m so sorry Sam,” he went on as if Sam hadn’t said anything.  
  
“Bobby, they were all things that needed to be done. You did what you had to, you know that.”  
  
“I do. That doesn’t make me feel any less shitty about it, though. The truth is…” Bobby let go of Sam’s shoulders and the younger man watched, slightly surprised, when Bobby’s fingers wiped tearful wetness from his eyes. “The truth is that I don’t know how to deal with what was done to you, kid,” Sam shuddered, because when Bobby spoke again his voice was hoarse and full of hurting. “I told myself that I should help you, comfort you, make it alright…” Bobby shook his head, his eyes seemed red and tired. “But I don’t know how, Sam,” he confessed, feeling terrible about it.  
  
“Bobby… you’ve been helping us all of our lives. Besides, I don’t think anyone could’ve prevented what Azazel did to me. Not dad, not Dean and certainly not you.”  
  
Bobby nodded slowly, reluctantly. “Maybe,” he said. “But I wish I knew how to make it better for you.”  
  
“I’m fine,” Sam said, quickly.  
  
“No you aren’t,” Bobby smiled sadly, a smile that broke Sam’s heart. “You keep telling yourself that, but you aren’t fine, Sam. And the things Azazel told you about the dreams and the bond between you… Son, I don’t know what to do. But I promise you I’ll read like crazy until I find something that can help us kill that bastard.”  
  
“Thank you, Bobby.”  
  
“Meanwhile, promise me you won’t fight with your brother.”  
  
“Bobby, Dean and I are good,” Sam began.  
  
“Yes, I can see that. Just… Maybe I can’t help, maybe no one can. But if there’s someone who will do whatever it takes to make you better that’s Dean.”  
  
Sam felt his heart twitch in his chest.  
  
“So you let him help you, okay?”  
  
“Yes, Bobby. Thanks,” Sam spoke softly.  
  
The hunter nodded and pulled Sam into a tight hug. Sam nearly gasped with surprise, but soon accepted the embrace and even shut his eyes when Bobby kissed the top of his head.  
  
 “Alright. I’m going now. Take care, you idjit.”  
  
Sam chuckled and watched as Bobby walked away and back towards the Impala.  
  
Dean saw the hunter coming closer until Bobby stuck his head inside the car to speak to him.  
  
“Everything alright?” Dean asked, studying Bobby’s face and trying to see Sam in the distance.  
  
“No, kid. Your brother needs you more than ever, Dean. I know I don’t have to tell you this, but getting rid of Azazel for the time being doesn’t seem like the end of it. Did you hear what he said about the bond between Sam and him?”  
  
Dean swallowed hard and looked ahead through the glass, not really seeing anything. “Yeah.”  
  
“Dean, you saw what he did to Sam. You were there in his memory.”  
  
Dean cringed at the memory and fought it away quickly.  
  
“You have got to help him,” Bobby said.  
  
“I want to, I just… I’m not sure I know how,” Dean confessed his helplessness.  
  
Bobby squeezed his arm and sighed. “You’ll figure something out, Dean. I’m sure.”  
  
Dean looked into Bobby’s eyes hoping he was right.  
  
“I have to go, but make sure you keep me up to date with how he’s doing, eh?”  
  
“Yeah, of course.”  
  
Bobby patted Dean’s arm a couple of times, smiled and started to walk away.  
  
Dean left the car and saw Sam walking in his direction. They eyed each other somewhat shyly and made their way to the motel room in silence.  
  
“I’ll go get us some grub,” Sam announced as soon they let themselves in. He needed some time to himself to process the encounter with Azazel and his talk with Bobby.  
  
“Fine. I’m starving.”  
  
“When aren’t you?” Sam murmured.  
  
Dean looked at him, stopping in the middle of kicking off his boots and wondering if Sam was in a bitchy mood.  
  
“I’ll be right back.” Sam smiled, and it was all it took for Dean to relax and go on with getting comfortable and cleaning his bloody face.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
Sam returned about an hour later with their meal. The noise of a door opening and his brother entering startled him a bit and Dean looked around guiltily, shutting the laptop down.  
  
“Let me guess, cartoons?” Sam arched an eyebrow.  
  
“Did you get pie?” Dean ignored the provocation.  
  
“Am I the best brother in the world?” He threw a brown paper bag with pie at Dean.  
  
“Yes, you are.” Dean opened it happily and smelled in deep the sweet scent of apple.  
  
Sam helped him unwrap the rest of the food and pulled the laptop to himself. They were in for a long night, because Sam had no plans of sleeping, not after everything Azazel had told him.  
  
“We’ll get him Sammy.”  
  
Dean’s voice brought him out of his thoughts and Sam looked at him, the food in his mouth suddenly very difficult to swallow.  
  
“We’ll find him and we’ll destroy that son of a bitch, you know that, right?”  
  
Sam put down his sandwich and stared at it for a while.  
  
“What if we don’t, Dean? Did you hear what he said to me? About my nightmares, and how much worse they’ll get unless I give in?”  
  
Dean hated that he couldn’t just touch Sam and wipe away the worry that creased his brown and made his eyes look so young and hurt.  
  
“He might’ve lied. Demons lie, you know.” Dean finished the last bite of his food and went for the pie.  
  
Sam seemed to consider that. He supposed Dean was right. Azazel could be lying just to get Sam to do what he wanted.  
  
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” He shrugged.  
  
Dean nodded and put a mouthful of pie in his mouth.  
  
“Like with the city.”  
  
“Dean, could you not speak with your mouth full? That’s disgusting,” Sam teased.  
  
Dean gave him a serious “whatever” look and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  
  
“Seriously, you have got to learn some manners.” Sam let some air out of his nose in a playful way.  
  
“I have manners. I am cool, Sammy. You know I am.”  
  
“Right. Do you wanna watch a movie or something? If we’re gonna wait here till morning we might as well do something.” Sam said.  
  
 _‘And you don’t want to sleep’_  Dean thought, not without his heart flinching a little. “Sure. You can pick it,” Dean said and almost regretted it at the way Sam’s eyes lit up. “But no chick flick,” he added quickly.  
  
Sam laughed and for the next hours he almost forgot the burden of everything he had heard in the confrontation with Azazel.  
  
They watched the first movie and then Dean got to choose another. Neither boy showed any signs of sleepiness until after the second movie.  
  
Dean noticed that Sam was visibly struggling not to fall asleep.  
  
“Hey, man… Are you sure you don’t want to crash for a couple of hours?”  
  
“Nah, I’m fine,” Sam said. “The police station will open soon and then we can go in there and see if they will tell us something.”  
  
Dean nodded, still watching him.  
  
“Hey, Dean…” Sam started.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
The younger man forced himself to look into his brother’s eyes, despite how hard it was.  
  
“Thanks for not letting go.”  
  
Dean furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes a little.  
  
“In the dream, I mean… when I was seeing everything after drinking the potion. I…” Dean could see the uncomfortable way in which Sam’s Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed hard. “I know it was tough. Thanks for staying with me.”  
  
Dean’s face was serious, maybe to try and keep a respectable façade that didn’t show just how messy his emotions were. Sam had that effect on him. Sam made everything that was rational go away and be replaced by hot red, blinding love, that ached and hurt more than he could handle.  
  
He found his brother’s hand on top of the table and squeezed.  
  
“I wish I could’ve been there when it really mattered,” He lowered his eyes and saw the way his finger traced a half moon on Sam’s skin. “I’m so sorry…”  
  
“Please… we’ve been down this road before. He was a demon, he would’ve gotten his way sooner or later. Let’s not talk about the past anymore, right?”  
  
Dean nodded and retreated his hand. Sam missed the touch the moment it was gone. He felt the need to fall into Dean build up in his lower belly and spread to his chest in the form of liquid warmth. He wanted nothing more than to repeat the kiss from the other night, to feel Dean kissing him like he was some sort of sacred being worthy of his attention. The thought itself made him tingle and his eyes clouded with need.  
  
Dean watched something change in the way his brother was looking at him. Sam parted his lips and there was something… thick and heated in his his eyes that made Dean shift on his seat uncomfortably. His heart slammed against his chest when he realized he wanted nothing more than to lean in and have another go at those lips. He wondered if Sam would push him away. More than once he had asked himself whether that long, deep kiss had really happened or maybe, while Sam had nightmares, Dean had been blessed with sweet, lovely dreams.  
  
“I’ll take a shower before we leave for the station.” Sam announced and got up.  
  
“Right.” Dean watched him go, opening a beer and taking a long, calming sip.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
In the early morning the two Winchester boys paid a visit to the police station and were glad to know there had been no nightmare related incident reported that night. They left a fake card with one of the officers and left the city with the promise of being called if anything happened again.  
  
They got into the car and started driving, not really sure where to, just as far away from the city as they could.  
  
There were usually long hours of silent driving spent together, and Dean was looking forward to it. Whatever had happened between Sam and him in the past few days, even if they didn’t talk about it, had served to bring some sort of peace between them.  
  
Dean was relaxed and he chose a soft rock ballad, knowing those were quick to put Sam to sleep. His brother might be struggling with it, but Dean knew he looked tired, his eyelids heavy. So he simply stopped talking back and focused on the road, waiting for the silent humming of baby’s engine, combined with the soft ballad playing on the radio, to rock Sam into a few hours of rest.  
  
 _At first there was nothing, just darkness. He floated in an universe of sleep and silence, relaxing into the much needed comfort. But then there were doors. Suddenly he could see himself in the middle of a room and there were doors everywhere. Sam knew he should stay away, but he would open the door no matter how hard he told himself not to. He opened doors and let the demon in, and those yellow away surrounded him, they were everywhere…_  
  
Dean looked at Sam quickly. He seemed to be okay, so he kept on driving and turned down the volume a little.  
  
 _‘You can’t run from me, Sammy… you have got to stop trying. I am inside you. I was inside you, remember? You’ve been claimed.’_  
  
 _‘No… go away, you’re not real…’_  
  
 _The yellow eyed demon was hovering on top of him._  
  
 _‘I’m as real as your mind allows, Sam… feel me!’_  
  
 _‘No!’ Sam thrashed. ‘Dean! Help me! Help!’ He saw his brother’s face looking at him from a distance. He was crying and saying he was sorry, over and over again. But Sam didn’t want him to cry, he wanted him to do something, to stop that, because it hurt, it-_  
  
“Stop the car!”  
  
The scream nearly caused Dean to lose control of the Impala, pretty much like it had already happened before.  
  
“What?” He asked, startled.  
  
“Stop the car, Dean!” Sam ordered, his eyes bulging out, wide and frightened.  
  
Dean did as he was told. He stepped hard on the brakes and brought the Impala to a quick, abrupt stop.  
  
Sam opened the passenger door in a second and emptied the contents of his stomach by the road.  
  
Dean watched, a frown on his face, as Sam turned inside out, retching and holding on to the Impala’s door until his knuckles turned white.  
  
“Sam… You okay there?” Dean felt he should ask, even though the answer was pretty obvious.  
  
The younger Winchester still needed a bit more time until there was nothing he could expel from his stomach. Then he collapsed back on the seat, reached for a bottle or mineral water and washed his mouth as best as he could.  
  
“I’m better now,” he said at last.  
  
Dean nodded.  
  
“You want to stop somewhere?”  
  
“No, let’s keep going.”  
  
Dean thought for a moment.  
  
“You know, we don’t have a job in view. Maybe we should take a few days break just to…”  
  
“What? Make sure I’m not going to lose my mind over dreams?”  
  
“I was gonna say you were alright.”  
  
They looked at each other.  
  
“I’ll be fine.” Sam insisted.  
  
“So long as you don’t sleep?”  
  
Dean hurt at the way Sam was visibly trying hard to seem okay.  
  
“Look, let’s try and work on something to make you better, alright? We’re gonna figure something out.” Dean promised.  
  
Sam’s reply was a heavy sigh. He fell onto the seat as Dean started the car again. He felt too weak to argue.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
They checked in a side road motel just like the many they were used to sharing.  
  
Dean went out and brought them dinner, but Sam was reluctant to touch his.  
  
“You have to eat,” Dean stated.  
  
“Not hungry.”  
  
“Don’t care. You have to eat.”  
  
“Not happening,” Sam retorted, defiantly.  
  
Dean sighed and threw the food on top of a side table.  
  
“Fine. But you need to sleep.”  
  
“Quit acting all concerned. I’m fine.” Sam snapped.  
  
Dean looked into his eyes and the dark circles around them caused by sleep deprivation. It wasn’t simply the lack of hours of sleep, it had been a series of days with terrible sleep quality. They could go for a couple of days without closing their eyes and still work just fine, but Sam hadn’t had a good night asleep maybe since all this had started.  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
Dean decided not to push. He sat on his bed and watched cartoons, unwilling to go looking for a case when Sam was clearly not strong enough.  
  
After a couple of hours, the brightness of the screen was making him drowsy, and Dean felt he too would need a few hours of sleep. He looked at his side and saw that Sam had fallen asleep with a book on his chest.  
  
He got up slowly, put the book aside and pulled the blanket up to his brother’s waist. He moved back to his bed, turned off the computer and sighed into his pillow, ready to let his guard down for some moments.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
Dean woke up with the strange sensation of someone watching over him. He blinked a few times into the dark before nearly jumping out of his skin.  
  
“Holy shit, Sam, put that down!” He screamed, sitting up straight and widening his sleepy eyes at the sight of his brother standing in front of him, pointing a gun at him.  
  
“Get out of my head,” Sam murmured. His eyes were glassy, his hands shaky. He held the gun and threatened, and all he saw were yellow eyes grinning at him.  
  
“Sammy…” Dean tried to get up and closer to Sam very slowly and smoothly. “Sam, it’s me… you’re dreaming, okay? This isn’t real…”  
  
“Stop lying!” Sam screamed, waving the gun at Dean’s face, looking very much like an aloof, scared animal.  
  
Dean’s heart thumped in his chest.  
  
“Sam, wake up… this isn’t real… I’m your brother, remember?”  
  
Sam frowned and gasped, his nostrils flaring and his lips quivering.  
  
He seemed unsure, the yellow eyes were still there, but there was a voice trying to get to him… he blinked the confusion away, and that was the opportunity Dean needed to make a move. He got close enough to grab the gun from Sam’s hand and make sure there would be no shooting.  
  
“What? No! Give me back!”  
  
Dean threw the gun away, out of reach.  
  
“Sam! Sam! It’s me, wake up! It’s Dean!”  
  
“Let me go!” Sam struggled against the hands grabbing at his shoulders. “Let me go!”  
  
The violence behind his struggles forced Dean to try a desperate, different approach. He pulled Sam close and kissed him. He silenced his cries and kept the pressure until the writhing faded and Sam grew limp under his touch.  
  
“Sam?” He whispered against his lips, looking into his eyes.  
  
“I’m… Dean? I’m sorry… Oh, shit… what have I done?”  
  
“Nothing. You’ve done nothing. It’s okay,” he reassured him.  
  
“I’m dangerous, Dean. I… I need to be stopped!” Sam looked pained, his eyes pleading into his brother’s.  
  
“It’s okay now, Sam. I got you.”  
  
Sam looked into the those green eyes staring at him in the darkness. He still felt the intensity of Dean’s grip on him, and the way his brother’s voice managed to create a feeling of safety when there was nothing but chaos.  
  
Sam felt his blood burn and his breath become laboured. Suddenly all the fear of the nightmare was channeled into something else, some desperate urge that Dean – and only he – could ease.  
  
Dean gasped when Sam seemed to charge at him, but instead locked his mouth in a deep, searching kiss. He groaned at the strength with which Sam pressed against him, which caused him to stumble upon the bed, Sam on top, and he shuddered at the demanding tongue licking his lips open.  
  
Sam felt Dean part his lips and that was all the access he needed. He drove against his brother blind and needfully, his hands framing Dean’s face and holding him in place so he could explore his mouth further. Sam sucked on his lips and licked at his tongue, feeling his body respond with desire.  
  
That was nothing like the soft, languid kiss from before, Dean thought. Sam was pressed up against him and his kisses were hungry, and his body was hot and craving. Dean felt himself respond to the urgency with the same drive. He tangled his fingers in Sam’s hair and pulled him into his mouth, taking control of the kiss.  
  
Sam made a throaty sound of pleasure when Dean tugged at his hair and broke the kiss, only to lick at his neck slow and wetly, before capturing his mouth once again. He had no idea where all that lust was coming from, but Sam knew he was too far gone to care.  
  
Dean felt heat pool in his lower belly and he started to act on the sheer need seeping from his every pore. He put an arm around Sam’s larger body and swapped their positions on the bed, pressing Sam to the mattress and adjusting his body atop his brother’s. When he did that Sam’s thighs fell open and, before he knew what he did, Dean settled between them, kissing Sam’s mouth and pressing his hips into his.  
  
The contact made them both gasp and break off the kiss.  
  
“Mmm…”  
  
They started into each other’s eyes and Dean rolled his hips against him again, just to make sure they had really felt what they could hardly believe they had.  
  
The movement elicited another row of moaning and eyes fluttering. They could feel their aligning hard ons through the roughness of the jeans, and the pleasure created through friction was unbelievable.  
  
Dean stopped for a moment, gasping for air. He looked into Sam’s eyes and knew he had to say something.  
  
“Sam…” It didn’t matter how fucking good it felt, there was transgression involved in the act, and he needed to make sure Sam was feeling the same.  
  
“Remember when you said we didn’t have to talk about it if it got too weird?” Sam asked, and then he arched up into Dean and caused him to moan unashamedly at the feeling of their matching arousals. “I’m okay with not talking.” Sam smiled and breathed raggedly.  
  
Dean mirrored the lustful smile he saw and shut down whatever rational thought that still tried to hold him back. He took his shirt off and helped Sam do the same, and when he lowered his chest and felt his skin brush against Sam’s naked chest he thought he had never been happier.  
  
“Sammy…” He whispered, holding on tight, relishing the feeling of their naked chests pressed up and thrusting his hips into Sam’s.  
  
“Hmm…” Sam’s head rolled on the pillow. The friction was good but it wasn’t enough. He arched up into Dean, hoping to ease the painful hardness in his pants.  
  
Dean drank in the sight of Sam all hot and needy. His brother looked absolutely beautiful. Dean couldn’t get enough of how hot his skin felt under his fingertips. He kept riding against him, building up the pleasure and the friction, and he let his fingers trail lower, until they rested on the button of Sam’s jeans.  
  
He looked at his brother and waited.  
  
Sam looked at Dean’s fingers toying with his jeans and nodded frantically.  
  
The older brother released Sam from the pants just enough so he could see the hardness covered by underwear that sprung against his hand. Dean bit on his bottom lip and swallowed a thick, lustful lump at the wetness gathering at the tip of him. He touched Sam’s cock through the thin fabric of his underwear, palming the length of him and hearing the sweet cry that escaped Sam’s lips.  
  
“Hmm, yes…” Sam thrust up into Dean’s palm, desperate for more. He shut his eyes and moaned when Dean slipped his hand inside and wrapped strong, certain fingers around his cock. “Fuck!” Sam cried, his muscles tensing under the pleasure that took hold of him.  
  
“That good, Sam?” Dean slurred, amazed at how good he felt stroking Sam to higher heaps of pleasure. “Hmm…” was all the reply Sam could give. He panted and licked at his dry lips, eyes rolling in the back of his head needing more of that touch. “Faster…”  
  
The plea inflamed Dean. He tightened his grip on Sam’s hardness and stroked him harder and faster, being rewarded with a series of clipped little moans and buckling hips that tried to fuck his hand. “Dean, I’m gonna-“  
  
“Yes?” Dean’s eyes were clouded with lust. His own neglected arousal was throbbing in his pants, and he couldn’t take his eyes of Sam and the beautiful sight of him descending into erotic chaos. “You gonna come for me, Sammy?”  
  
Sam looked into Dean’s desire filled eyes, and the sound of his voice, so sultry and knowing, so intimate and protective and sexy sent him spiraling over the edge. Sam’s abdomen tensed and his muscles flexed. He cried one last time and shot his load all over his naked skin, shuddering and gasping as Dean stroked him through his orgasm.  
  
Dean saw the pearlescent evidence of Sam’s pleasure and his eyes fell shut, needing a moment to register that image forever in his brain. “Ohhh!” His eyes darted open and he groaned when he felt Sam’s hands working on his pants and taking his cock out to stroke it.  
  
“Sam…” Dean gasped, and his head fell backwards. Sam had a strong grip on him and he stroked him swiftly and skillfully, his large palm and long fingers moving up and down, forcing Dean to let go of any control he thought he still had. “Mmm, fuck!” He cried, buckling into Sam’s hand, his eyes seeming pained under the intense pleasure clouding his system.  
  
Sam’s eyes were feral, teasing, as if he relished the sight of seeing Dean fight and lose miserably to have some sort of control. “Let it go, Dean.” He stroked faster, squeezing his cock and loving the way Dean moaned.  
  
“Sam!” Dean’s eyes widened and locked with his brother’s. Sam felt his cock pulse against the palm of his hand, and there was a moment of stillness before Dean groaned and came, digging his nails into Sam’s thighs, shaking until there was nothing else left to feel of his orgasm.  
  
Drugged with pleasure, the older brother opened his heavy eyelids and saw the mess they had made on Sam’s naked chest. Then, as if hypnotized by the sight of their pleasure drying on his brother’s skin, Dean lifted two shaky fingers and touched the white wetness, not knowing where Sam’s pleasure ended and his began.  
  
Sam watched him, mesmerized at the intense way Dean looked at his fingers, studying the evidence of their transgression, their need and their complicity merged in one thing.  
  
He grabbed Dean’s wrist and, before he thought about it, took his fingertips to his mouth, closing the digits between his lips and tasting their mingled pleasure in his tongue.  
  
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean spoke hoarsely.  
  
It was only then that Sam seemed to realize what he had done, and he loved how it had affected Dean. The huskiness in his voice, the realization of being able to affect Dean as much as he felt affected by him made Sam smile and pull him in for a kiss.  
  
The two kissed more slow and soft this time, and Dean felt the remaining taste of their mess into the kiss, until that was gone and there was nothing but the taste that was becoming familiar to them.  
  
Though neither would say anything, perhaps for lack of a proper definition, what they both tasted in each other’s tongue felt a lot like home.  
  
“Dean?” Sam broke the kiss.  
  
“Yeah?” The older brother replied, his body all relaxed and tingling, his eyes heavy and content. He nestled his head against Sam’s neck and exhaled deeply.  
  
“I’m hungry now.”  
  
  
\----------------------------------------------------  
  
 _tbc.....  
more soon :)_


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

Chapter 10

  
  
  
“We need to talk about last night,” Sam said when they were both up and ready to go out and get breakfast.  
  
“Last night was awesome,” Dean said, eyeing Sam with a comically seductive smile.  
  
Sam shut his eyes and tried not to let that mischievous glint in Dean’s eyes affect him.  
  
“No, not that part of the night. The other one.”  
  
Dean stopped on his way to getting his car keys.  
  
“What other part?” He asked.  
  
“Dean,” Sam’s tone of voice was serious. “The part where I had my loaded gun pointed at your face, ready to kill you.”  
  
“Oh… that part,” Dean nodded with recognition and then shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I like it rough,” He winked in a flirtatious mood.  
  
“Dean. That’s not funny. I could’ve killed you. My nightmares are getting worse.”  
  
Dean sighed and gave up trying to avoid that conversation. He just hated not having a solution to Sam’s problem. He sat on the corner of his bed and for a moment his eyes seemed lost.  
  
“I know, Sam. We have got to find Azazel and kill him. Or maybe…” Dean frowned and trailed off.  
  
“Maybe what?” Sam stood right in front of him.  
  
“I don’t know… I mean, he did something to you that night, right? Some sort of ritual.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I wonder if there’s any way we could undo whatever it is that he did to you.”  
  
“Like a counterspell or something?” Sam asked.  
  
Dean looked at him, daring to hang on to a small spark of hope. “Yeah. What if there’s some way we can reverse that?”  
  
“Okay.” Sam thought. “But how?”  
  
“I don’t know. We’ll have to get our hands on everything we can find about claiming rituals.”  
  
Sam tensed slightly at that, but he did feel hopeful with the suggestion.  
  
“I’ve never read anything about this kind of stuff, but you’re right, Dean, there may be something.”  
  
“Think we should call Bobby and have him look as well?”  
  
“Yes. Let’s do that.”  
  
Dean nodded and stood up once again. He found Sam’s eyes and stared at him for a moment. “We’ll get you better, Sam. Either we’ll kill Azazel after we make him undo whatever claim he has laid upon you, or we’ll figure out a way to undo that ourselves.”  
  
Sam nodded, feeling slightly better.  
  
“Meanwhile, though…” Dean sighed. “I think it’d be better if I had your gun during nighttime.”  
  
“Right. And the dagger. I’ll hand them over next time I decide to take a nap.”  
  
“Or I could tie you down, you know…” Dean’s voice dropped to something thicker with meaning and his eyes swam with desire. “Make sure you could not move a single muscle…”  
  
Sam realized where that was going and before he could help it he felt himself blushing what was probably a feverish color of pink. “Dean!”  
  
“What? Just going over our options here…” He smiled cockily and gripped Sam’s hip when passing him by to leave.  
  
“Jerk,” Sam said playfully and shook his head, following right after him.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
Two weeks went by and the two of them didn’t allow themselves to have much of a break. As they read books and blogs looking for any information they might have on Azazel’s whereabouts or maybe a spell they could use to help undo the claim he had laid on Sam, it was inevitable that their eyes ended up catching a job here or there. In the last few days they had dealt with a couple of ghosts and a werewolf case.  
  
Even though they had worked together, both doing their best and getting the desired result of a good hunting, Dean knew Sam was falling apart, and he didn’t know how much longer his brother would be able to handle the bad dreams. Sam avoided sleep as best he could. Dean doubted he’d had a full night asleep in the last month. Instead, Sam tried to sleep no longer than a couple of hours at a time, and even so it wasn’t enough to prevent the nightmares from coming and rendering him helpless and broken.  
  
Whether it was on the car or on a motel bed, Sam was more and more disturbed by images of Azazel and their encounter. The plot sometimes changed, but every dream carried the same desperation and painful feeling Sam couldn’t escape from. Dean always took his gun and dagger before Sam shut his eyes, and they hadn’t had incidents with Sam trying to kill anyone in his sleep so far. But it was undeniable that the younger Winchester could not take that for much longer. Dean didn’t want to say that, but he was beginning to grow reluctant to have Sam in a hunt with him. His brother was so weak and his mind so battered that Dean feared he would be of little help fighting monsters when there was a demon so vividly eating at his insides.  
  
Sam was now doing what he had been doing for the past few days. He had three opened books in front of him, his eyes were heavy with denied rest, and he read everything he could about demons and claiming spells – so far everything had been a dead end. The closest he had gotten to a solution was knowing what they already did – the nightmares would go away if they could kill Azazel. Well, considering they didn’t have a clue as to where that demon was now, this option seemed of little value.  
  
But that day, as Sam once again went over books alone, while Dean was out doing whatever it was he said he would, Sam found something that caught his attention.  
  
 _Claiming rituals need powerful body fluids to be fulfilled. They can be carried out with blood or semen, but are stronger when both are used._  
  
Sam swallowed hard. He had already found this in many other places, but this book seemed to come with a larger paragraph on the subject. Sam read through the part where it explained the purpose and consequences of this kind of ritual.  
  
 _The rituals create a bond between the people involved unable to be broken for a lifetime._  
  
Yes, yes, he had read that already.  
  
 _The bond can only be undone upon the death of one of the two people involved._  
  
Sam sighed, hopeless, but then he kept reading and his heart started to beat fast.  
  
 _The bond can also be undone if it’s replaced by another, equally strong._  
  
Now that was new information. Sam didn’t even notice, but his breathing quickened and he read faster.  
  
 _A reverse ritual spell can be performed to undo the previously formed bond, and open the way for a new bond to be established. The new bond will happen if the reverse spell is said by the very antagonist to the spell, as the new claiming takes place. A new bond will emerge if the reverse of the previous bond is achieved. The opposite will lift the burden, and recreate the bond._  
  
Sam reread that part at least ten times, but he still wasn’t sure what it meant. He understood the part about a previous bond – the one he and Azazel shared – being replaced by a new one, just as powerful. But he had no idea what the reverse of the spell or the antagonist meant. There were some magic words that were allegedly the key to the counterspell. Sam murmured them to himself, knowing it was hoping too much that it would be that simple.  
  
He was still puzzled over the text he had found when Dean walked in, dirty clothes on, torn jeans and bloody faced.  
  
“Dean?” Sam closed the book quickly. “What the hell, man? Where were you?”  
  
Dean felt every muscle in his body aching. He was sore to his every bone, but he knew the look in Sam’s eyes when he realized what he’d been doing would hurt more than any wound.  
  
“I was hunting, alright?”  
  
“You went hunting without me? You lied?”  
  
Dean walked past his brother’s accusatory look and took off his dirty, worn out jacket.  
  
“Sam, what was I supposed to do? You know you ain’t in no conditions to go hunting. You haven’t slept well in ages, man! I couldn’t risk…”  
  
“Couldn’t risk what? Me fucking up the hunt?” Sam snapped angrily.  
  
“No, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt.” Dean said, hoping Sam could see that he was right.  
  
“Dean, you have no right! I am fine, okay? My problem is when I’m trying to sleep, and not when I’m awake. I can take care of myself. I won’t be a burden to you if that’s what you’re afraid of.”  
  
“Sammy…”  
  
“Oh, cut it out,” Sam snapped. He wanted to storm out of the room to get his point across, but there was no where he wanted to go, and Dean did look like he’d been to hell and back.  
  
The older brother just sat on the bed and took off his boots, waiting for Sam to vent. No amount of anger would make Dean change his mind about having made the right call, though. He flinched when he took off another layer of clothing, finding himself in a worn out T shirt and jeans.  
  
“That’s not the way it works, Dean” Sam started again, causing Dean to draw in a deep, tired breath and speak. “Look,” he said. “Tell you what, then. You sleep through for a couple of nights. No nightmares. Just smooth and sweet sleep, and then we’ll go hunting together.”  
  
Sam stopped in the middle another series of angry words he wanted to voice. He knew that deep down hunting was not in the core of all his anger and frustration. The nightmares were, and being unable to stop them was what drove him mad. Dean’s words seemed reasonable enough, though.  
  
“Ok. So if I can sleep tonight and tomorrow without any incidents then we go back to hunting together?”  
  
“It’s a deal,” Dean said.  
  
Sam nodded, his lips still tight and his eyes still piercingly dangerous. He turned around and looked for something in his backpack. Dean watched as Sam started to prepare himself some herbal tea. He couldn’t help smiling at that.  
  
When Sam was drinking his hot beverage and Dean had cleaned up from the blood and dirt, the older brother cast a look at the books laying on top of the table. “So, did you find out anything?”  
  
Sam tensed a little and stopped in the middle of blowing into his tea. “Not really,” he said, carefully. He still hadn’t been able to make sense out of what he had read, and he didn’t want to get Dean all worked up over something that turned out to be nothing.  
  
“Ok, then. We’ll keep digging. Maybe Bobby will find something out too.”  
  
Sam nodded, but he wasn’t feeling very optimistic. He finished his tea with thoughts of the riddle in the book and sleeping a dreamless night mingling in his brain.  
  
Dean watched as Sam got ready to sleep without saying a word. He could feel how much it meant for his brother that he could prove he was good enough to go hunting, and Dean found himself praying that that stupid herbal tea would work.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
Sam woke up the next morning feeling better than he had in days. He slept sound eight hours straight, and when Dean woke up Sam was still in bed, stretching.  
  
“Morning, sleeping beauty. How did you sleep?” Dean studied him. He liked what he saw. Sam smiled a lazy, content smile and kept on stretching like a damn kitty in a cushion.  
  
“Like a true princess,” Sam joked and Dean laughed.  
  
“Really? No… hm, nightmares?”  
  
“Nope.” Sam smiled widely and started to get up.  
  
“You don’t think that herbal tea crap worked, right?” Dean made a face and he too started to get dressed.  
  
“Well, who knows? It might have.”  
  
“Right,” Dean said, incredulity clear in his voice.  
  
“So where are we going today?” Sam tried. He felt just too good.  
  
“ _We_  are not going anywhere. That was not the deal and you know it. You still owe me one more night of sleeping like a princess and then we can go.”  
  
Sam looked at his brother, far from pleased.  
  
“Fine. But maybe there was something in the tea. I don’t know. I feel good today.”  
  
“And I’m glad to see you like this, Sammy.”  _‘But I don’t think this will be the end of our problems’_ was the end of his thoughts that remained unspoken between them.  
  
“So, what are we doing today then?”  
  
“I need to put some gas in baby and we’re running low on food.”  
  
“Fine, I’ll stay here and read some more from these books.”  
  
“See you later then.”  
  
Sam watched his brother go and was about to make himself some coffee when he thought better and started making some tea. He smiled despite himself. It felt good having slept a whole night.  
  
He sat down with a mug and opened the book on the page from where he had been reading yesterday. Soon, the joyous feeling of rest began to creep slowly away and the tension returned to his body.  
  
Sam didn’t really think the herbal tea would stop his nightmares, but what if he wanted to believe in something that could actually help? Unlike those lines that spoke in riddles about an antagonist and reversing the spell to create a new bond… What was that all about anyway?  
  
 _A new bond will emerge if the reverse of the previous bond is achieved._  
  
“What the hell does it even mean, the reverse of the previous bond?” Sam wrinkled his forehead. He knew the demon had spoken the words of a spell when he had taken Sam, and he wondered if the reverse spell was simply saying those words backwards?  
  
What was the reverse of a bond? How could a new bond be established in a way as to free him from Azazel’s?  
  
 _The new bond will happen if the reverse spell is said by the very antagonist to the spell, as the new claiming takes place._  
  
Who was this antagonist? It could not be Azazel, because the spell spoke of a new bond being formed.  
  
After a few hours of reading it over and over and thinking exhaustively about it, Sam rubbed at his temples and pushed the book away. He decided he would wait for Dean to be back and keep his mind busy with anything that wasn’t nightmares. He reached for another teabag and made himself another herbal tea.  
  
“Just another night. I can do that,” he spoke quietly to himself, hoping he could actually believe it.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
 _He felt the weight of the body on top of him. Azazel’s yellow eyes burned with evil, and he crushed Sam’s smaller frame to the bed under a painful, terrifying spell._  
  
 _Sam winced and shut his eyes. He remembered trying desperately to move his arms and legs to get away, but being unable to do so because of the invisible strength binding him to the demon’s will._  
  
 _“Please stop… please!” His head thrashed on the pillow. He could not believe what he had let happen by opening that door. What would his father say when he found out? And Dean?! Sam thought he would die if his brother ever found out how stupid he had been. “No more…” he pleaded._  
  
 _“You’re mine now, Sammy.”_  
  
 _“No… Dean…” he whimpered. “Dean, help…” he closed his eyes and cried miserably. “Dean please….”_  
  
 _“What’s the problem, baby brother? We don’t ever have to talk about it if it gets weird,” he grinned._  
  
 _Sam looked up, shocked, to find his brother on top of him, moving, hurting him, a wild look of evil on his face. “Dean, no! Dean, please!” Sam started to struggle anew, the image of his brother inflicting that much pain was too much, he was losing it, losing it… breaking…_  
  
“Sam! Sam, wake up!” Dean was shaking him.  
  
The older Winchester had heard whimpering and his eyes had darted open right away. His heart had sunk when he looked at the other bed and found Sam wrestling with an invisible, but very real, enemy. He had gone quickly to his borther’s bed and tried to shake him out of the nightmare.  
  
“No…” Sam’s eyes were shut tightly and he struggled.  
  
“Sam!” Dean slapped his face softly a few times, until Sam complied and opened his eyes.  
  
“NO!” Sam thrashed a new, nearly kicking Dean out of the bed. “Stay away from me!” Waking up from his terrible nightmare to find Dean on top of him, shaking him, didn’t do much for Sam’s confused mind. He fought Dean as if the person on top of him was still that terrible Dean from his nightmare.  
  
“Sam! It’s me. It’s okay.”  
  
“No, you’re gonna hurt me, get away!” Sam started to push Dean away, but with all the crying and trembling he wasn’t strong enough.  
  
Shocked at watching his brother descend into pure chaos, Dean pulled him tightly against his body and rocked him, taking the punching and shoving, and eventually the muffled sobbing as well.  
  
For a long time there was no other sound in the room other than Sam’s uneven breath and the eventual gasp that would escape his throat. He had stopped struggling by now and simply rested against Dean’s body. Too weak and ashamed to collect himself.  
  
“Sammy?” Dean caressed him like he was the kid he had been in his nightmare. He raked his fingers through his hair and never loosened the embrace. He thought his heart would burst. He would have given anything to lift that burden off Sam. If only he could go back in time and be the one Azazel wanted. He would have done anything to have this hardship thrust upon himself and not Sam. “It’s okay, Sammy…” He kissed his brother’s forehead.  
  
Sam eventually moved and forced the embrace to loosen. He looked into Dean’s eyes. He was too tired to care that he looked so helpless. He found so much sincere worry in Dean’s eyes that he smiled feebly at his nightmare. How could he ever dream something so horrible about his brother? Dean would never hurt him; could never hurt him like that. That nightmare had been a sick, wicked creation from the demon.  
  
“Are you alright?” Dean ran his palm over Sam’s sweaty brow and searched deeply into his eyes.  
  
Sam smiled again, stupidly, tiredly. There was no way Dean could ever be that monster in his nightmare, because Azazel was evil, and Dean was the very opposite of evil.  
  
“He made me dream that you were hurting me,” Sam confessed.  
  
Dean’s face was serious and his lips twitched angrily at the idea. “He what?”  
  
“My nightmare… it was you, Dean. You were doing what he did.”  
  
Dean’s heart ached and he swallowed  a lump of anger and powerlessness. “Sammy, I could never…” He spoke as if each word carried the weight of the world in it.  
  
“I know. I know, Dean,” Sam reassured him. “What Azazel did was evil… and you could never…You’re the opposite of evil, Dean.”  
  
When Dean spoke it was as if each word meant so much that it pained him just bearing them in, “I love you.”  Dean pressed his forehead to his brother’s, holding him tightly close. “I do, Sammy.”  
  
“I know, Dean. And I love-“ Sam started and stopped in the middle of the words.  _The opposite will lift the burden, and recreate the bond._  Sam widened his eyes and felt vertiginous at the realization that struck him. He looked into Dean’s protective, unknowing eyes and his heart raced, so much in fact that Sam swore Dean would hear it thumping.  _The opposite will lift the burden, and recreate the bond._  
  
Sam shuddered.  
  
“Are you okay?” Dean asked again, intrigued by the way Sam was looking at him. “Yes…” Sam said and swallowed slowly. Dean still looked worriedly at him, as if waiting for an answer. “I… I love you too, Dean,” Sam hugged his brother again, and this time it felt like he held on to Dean and braced himself from the thoughts spiraling out of control.  
  
\------------------------------------------  
  
  
 _tbc....  hope you like where this is going ;)_


	11. Chapter 11

 

Chapter 11  
  


  
  
  
Although Dean insisted on staying in bed with him through what was left of the night, Sam couldn’t really go back to sleep. He had turned on his side, eyes facing the wall a few feet ahead, as Dean turned the laptop on and browsed the web. Sam could feel the warm weight of Dean’s leg against his lower back. His brother probably thought he was sleeping, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. And it wasn’t the fear of facing another nightmare, it was something else entirely.  
  
The words of the spell that seemed to be a riddle kept coming back to him. And even though Sam couldn’t wait to be alone so he could open the book and read that paragraph again, he knew he didn’t have to, since the words were burned into his memory. _The new bond will happen if the reverse spell is said by the very antagonist to the spell, as the new claiming takes place._  When Dean helped him through another nightmare, Sam realized that maybe he knew who this antagonist was. Azazel had made him feel evil. What was the opposite of evil if not love? And who did he love and loved him more than anything in this world?  
  
Sam felt butterflies in his stomach and it was hard lying there still, without making a sound or a move, as his mind raced with thoughts that maybe… maybe if his big brother  _claimed_  him, then all the nightmares would vanish for good.  
  
The thought caused him to shudder.  
  
If that was the case and he wasn’t simply losing his mind, how could he say that to Dean? Sam thought he would die before he could find the guts to tell his brother that maybe – and that was a long shot – he could fuck him into healing.  
  
Again the shudder.  
  
Sam didn’t know how he felt about it. Of course it was unnerving, and thrilling, and scary, and wrong, and right at the same time… But what would Dean make of it? It was one thing kissing and getting carried away, jerking off like a couple of horny teenage boys… It was a whole other thing asking Dean to  _make love_  to him.  
  
What if Dean didn’t want to? What if he thought that would be crossing the line? What if he thought Sam was sick for even suggesting it?  
  
There were no more nightmares until the break of dawn, but Sam’s mind prepared to face a new day with the same restlessness.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
Sam tiptoed around his brother the entire morning. He couldn’t even bring himself to look Dean in the eyes without feeling something burning him hotly with what could only be described as a terrible mix of shame and desire. When Dean left some time around lunch to return with food and beer, Sam re-read the spell about a dozen times.  _‘That can’t be it,’_  he told himself. He was not ready to accept that the only way he could stop the terrible nightmares was by having sex with his brother. Knowing that was almost worse than not knowing what could be done to help at all.  
  
When Dean walked in Sam nearly jumped out of his skin.  
  
“Oh, hey there.”  
  
“Hi,” Dean watched him, walking further in and kicking the door shut. He put the food on the table and saw the way Sam closed the book quickly.  
  
His brother had been quite fidgety since morning, and Dean thought it was because of the nightmare and how much of a wreck Sam had been after it. Maybe he was embarrassed for being unable to control it? Which was stupid, because how could he? But it was weird that Sam wasn’t angry about not going hunting as Dean thought he might be. As a matter of fact, Sam hadn’t even mentioned hunting since he woke up.  
  
Dean put two beers on the table and pulled a chair next to Sam. They both opened their food bags and started eating in silence. After a few bites Dean reached out for one of the beers, which happened at exactly the same time Sam reached for the other. Their fingers brushed and Dean watched, not without some puzzlement, as Sam retreated his fingers as if he’d been burned. “Are you okay?” Dean frowned and arched an eyebrow.  
  
“Yes. Yes.” Sam nodded quickly.  
  
“You’ve been weird all morning.”  
  
Sam smiled if off and shrugged.  
  
“Weird how?”  
  
“I don’t know. Just… weird,” Dean repeated.  
  
“I’m fine.” Sam reassured him.  
  
“Oh yes?” Dean stared at him with a bit more interest as he took another bite and chewed it slowly. “Is that why you’re avoiding eye contact?”  
  
Sam cursed Dean mentally for that screwed up ability to read him like a book. He forced himself to meet his brother’s eyes.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
“Right,” Dean let it go and drank his beer. Maybe he was imagining things. Or maybe Sam just needed some time to collect himself after last night’s horrible dream.  
  
They were halfway through their meal when the phone rang.  
  
“It’s Bobby,” Sam said, finishing off a bite and looking at his cell phone. “Hey, Bobby. What’s up? Wait a second, Dean’s here. I’ll put you on speaker.”  
  
 _“Hey.”_  
  
“Hi, Bobby,” Dean said. “You okay?”  
  
 _“Yes. You?”_  
  
“Yes,” Dean replied.  
  
 _“Sam?”_  
  
There was only a moment of hesitation before Sam replied. “I’m good too, Bobby.”  
  
“No, he isn’t,” Dean said, which earned him a dirty look from his brother and that pissed little nose twitch Sam did when he was angry and couldn’t voice it. “The nightmares are getting worse, Bobby. Tell me you got something for us.”  
  
Sam sighed deeply. Dean was right, the nightmares  _were_  worse, and they could use all the help they could find, specially since the only spell he had found had been nothing but a riddle that messed up with his-  
  
 _“I found something,”_ Bobby interrupted his thoughts.  _“Are you listening, Sam?”_  
  
“Yes,” Sam leaned closer to the phone on the table. “What did you find?”  
  
 _“Well, there’s this book about sex rituals. I found stuff about claiming there. But the thing is, I haven’t been able to make sense out of it.”_  
  
Sam’s heart beat faster.  
  
“What does it say, Bobby?” Dean asked.  
  
Sam knew the words Bobby was about to say, but knowing didn’t make him any less agitated and nervous when he heard them.  
  
“ _A reverse ritual spell can be performed to undo the previously formed bond, and open the way for a new bond to be established. The new bond will happen if the reverse spell is said by the very antagonist to the spell, as the new claiming takes place. A new bond will emerge if the reverse of the previous bond is achieved. The opposite will lift the burden, and recreate the bond.”_  
  
Bobby paused. On the other side of the line the two brothers were equally silent. Sam’s heart was racing and he braced himself for whatever Bobby would say next.  
  
“What does it mean, Bobby?” Dean frowned, and Sam saw in his eyes that he truly didn’t have a clue.  
  
 _“That’s why I called. I have no idea,”_  he admitted, and Sam exhaled the breath he had been holding, and his shoulders relaxed too.  
  
Dean, on the other hand, seemed deep in thought and struggled to find meaning in the words he had just heard.  
  
“Who the fuck is the antagonist? And how can the ‘reverse of the previous bond be achieved’? Is it written in riddles or something?”  
  
 _“I don’t know,”_  Bobby confessed.  _“I was hoping you’d be able to shed some light on that.”_  
  
“Sam?” Dean asked.  
  
“Um…” Sam started, rubbing his hands together under the table and licking his lips absently. “I sort of… I….”  
  
Dean watched him with growing curiosity as the stuttering began.  
  
“Actually,” Sam noticed the way he was being studied and tried to just be natural about it. “I found this same paragraph in a book too,” he said, immediately aware of the way Dean stared at him.  
  
 _“Oh, great!”_  Bobby said before Dean could say anything.  _“And what do you make of it?"_  
  
“I… I still don’t know,” Sam didn’t want to lie. “I feel like it’s some kind of riddle,” he said, which was true.  
  
Dean listened to the conversation, and Sam could tell his brother was dying to say something to him.  
  
 _“Oh well, bollocks. I’ll keep thinking and looking then. You two do the same.”_  
  
“Right,” Sam replied.  
  
 _“Hang in there, Sam. We’ll find a way to help you,”_  Bobby said, concern evident in his voice.  
  
“Thanks, Bobby.”  
  
Sam ended the call, very much aware of the look on Dean’s face, and the way it seemed to burn into his skin.  
  
“You knew that?” Dean raised his eyebrows.  
  
“I…” Sam looked for words. “Only for a couple of days, yeah.”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
  
“Because,” Sam licked at his lips nervously. “I didn’t know what it meant, alright? Like Bobby, I thought it was some kind of senseless riddle…” He confessed.  
  
“Umhum,” Dean nodded. “You say you didn’t know.”  
  
“Yes.” Sam confirmed.  
  
“So does that mean you do now?”  
  
The precise question went straight to Sam’s heart and rendered him speechless. Despite always stating that Sam was ‘the brains’, Dean was obviously a lot smarter than people gave him credit for.  
  
Sam just couldn’t bring himself to speak. He tried to find his voice but all he had inside was a strong fear of rejection he couldn’t overcome.  
  
“Sam?” Dean urged him on, and Sam felt like a he was a kid again when Dean used a more stern tone of voice. The younger man swallowed hard and stared at his hands.  
  
“I… might… I might’ve…” Sam shook his head. “I don’t know, Dean.” Sam gave in, at last. “I really don’t know.”  
  
“But you have an idea?” Dean insisted.  
  
Sam looked around them in the room and realized, much to his despair, that his breathing had hitched and was now uneven. He hated the way Dean looked at him as if he could see everything hiding in the shadowed corners of his soul.  
  
“I might, yes,” He decided to tell the truth, no matter how difficult.  
  
“Well then,” Dean gestured with his hands. “What are you waiting for? Tell me so we can get it done.”  
  
“It’s not that simple.”  
  
Dean leaned back against the chair. He could not understand why Sam hadn’t come rushing to him with the update on how to destroy Azazel’s bond. What could be so terrible that he would be afraid to speak? For sure they had already done the craziest spells before. What could possibly shock him?  
  
“It’s never simple. But do enlighten me,” Dean asked.  
  
Sam took his time collecting himself and only spoke again when he felt his voice was under control. “I read this paragraph a couple of days ago, and it meant nothing to me, just like Bobby said.” He started. “I didn’t tell you anything because I didn’t want you to get your hopes up before I knew what the spell was talking about.”  
  
Dean watched him, silent.  
  
“And until last night I still had no idea.”  
  
Dean’s brow furrowed a little.  
  
“Last night,” Sam resumed. “When I had that terrible dream that you were hurting me instead of Azazel… and I told you so, and then you said you could never hurt me…”  
  
“It’s true, Sam.”  
  
“I know.” Sam nodded. “Then I told you that what Azazel had done to me was evil. And you could never do that, Dean, because you’re the opposite of evil.” Sam paused and watched Dean closely, but there was no sign of realization coming from him. “What is the opposite of evil, Dean?” Sam asked, seemingly exhausted under the strain of getting it out of his chest.  
  
Dean’s eyes moved quickly and he frowned, thinking about Sam’s question.  
  
“Love?” He tried.  
  
Sam smiled, but it was a sad, small one.  
  
“That’s what I think too. Now the spell says that the previous bond – the one Azazel has with me – can be undone if a new claiming takes place. And it says this new claim needs to be the opposite of the other, done by the antagonist.”  
  
Dean narrowed his eyes, following Sam’s every word.  
  
Sam had gotten this far, he might as well finish it. “So last night I thought… what if this new bond is having the same claiming act of sex in a feeling of love, instead of evil?”  
  
“I would say that makes sense,” Dean agreed quickly, apparently still oblivious.  
  
“Dean,” Sam stared at his brother. “ What if the counterspell to end my nightmares is letting myself be claimed by you?”  
  
It took a moment, but everything dawned on him all at once, and Dean’s eyes were the only thing to move – they got wider – as his body remained perfectly still. “You mean…” when he spoke he realized how dry his mouth had suddenly become. “We would have sex?”  
  
Sam sighed, weary, and nodded. He lowered his eyes to the table, staring at nothing in particular as he waited for Dean to process the information.  
  
Now it made sense, Dean thought, the way Sam had been avoiding him all morning, the way he seemed uneasy and reluctant to look him in the eyes. That was a hell of a lot of information to digest.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Sam said, just because he couldn’t stand the tension any longer.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I know, right? It’s just wrong. We’ll have to think of something else. That’s why I didn’t say anything before,” Sam spoke quickly.  
  
It was Dean’s turn to sigh. He could hardly wrap his mind around the idea of  _taking_  Sam. It was simply overwhelming. Picturing his brother being  _his_ , completely, thoroughly, felt so much like a wild, impossible fantasy that Dean couldn’t even say how he felt about it, other than so nervous his stomach hurt. But Sam was right, it was wrong, of course it was. There was no way Sam would want to go through that again after the pain he’d suffered.  
  
“I’m sorry, Sammy. I could never do that to you.” Why was it that a possible healing was so close and yet so unreachable? That didn’t seem fair at all.  
  
“I know,” Sam swallowed hard. Of course that’s what Dean would say. He’d been crazy to think that a few kisses and an urgent and messy release would make it easier for his brother to think of sex with him. It still hurt, though, hearing Dean say that it could not be done. Because even though the thought of carrying out with it was scary, Sam could not deny that there was something in him that warmed up to the idea, a kind of longing that ached and hurt in silence, a kind of need that wasn’t recent. “As I said, we’ll think of something.” He said not without some difficulty, and made as if he would stand up.  
  
“Sam,” Dean covered his brother’s hand with his own and made him sit back down. “I would do whatever I had to do to help you, you know that, right?”  
  
“I know. But this is… too much right?”  
  
“Right.” Dean agreed. “I can’t hurt you.”  
  
Sam looked at him and in his green eyes there was all the vulnerability he locked within. “You mean, hurt me more than the dreams do?”  
  
“Sammy…” Dean flinched at the pain he felt in Sam’s words.  
  
“Besides, it probably wouldn’t work anyway.” Sam pointed out. Dean forced himself to nod. “Yeah,” he said.  
  
Sam stood up then, he smiled quickly and without any happiness behind it, and Dean watched as he moved away pretending he had something to do.  
  
They hardly spoke during the rest of the day, each brother lost into their own reverie of thoughts. Sam felt the bitter taste of rejection, and Dean was torn between heated thoughts of claiming his brother in a new bond and guilty thoughts about hurting him again. Looking at each other was difficult, speaking was that much more. They had gone to bed early, perhaps trying to escape talking about the subject again.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
Dean’s eyes darted open and he looked at his side. He had a very light sleep, certainly a gift of being a hunter, and he found Sam sitting on his bed, his feet on the mattress and his arms resting on top of his raised knees.  
  
“Nightmare?”  
  
Sam nodded. He was awake now. Had been for the last fifteen minutes or so, staring into nothing in particular. He saw Dean shift with the corner of his eye and come in his direction. Sam rested his chin on his knees but said nothing.  
  
Dean sat in front of him in bed and crossed his legs. He realized they would have to have that conversation.  
  
“Sam…” He tried to speak with all his heart, no holding back. “I understand if you think I’m crazy or sick for even saying this… but, if you think there’s a slight chance that I could make these dreams stop by creating a new bond… I would do whatever I had to.”  
  
Sam narrowed one of his eyes, as if he didn’t believe what he had just heard.  
  
“Are you saying you would do it?”  
  
“I’m not saying I want to-“ Dean started, quickly coming up with something to shield himself from how exposed he thought his desire was.  
  
“I know you don’t want to,” Sam said a bit too quickly and hurtfully, and that caused Dean to tilt his head.  
  
“Wait. It’s not that I don’t  _want_  to. That’s not it, Sam.”  
  
The younger man studied Dean, ready for him to continue.  
  
“I mean, I don’t want to  _hurt_  you. I don’t want that you have to go through that again. But…” Dean licked his lips and eyed Sam with a little less control and more truth. “ _I want you_ , Sam,” he said. He felt open and vulnerable, but also good to be saying that. “I… damn it, Sam. The idea of having you…” he breathed slightly faster and let his hand rest on one of Sam’s knee. “It’s almost too much, you know…” he smiled, almost shyly, which caused the corner of Sam’s mouth to twitch. “What I’m trying to say is, I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to. But… trying to create this new bond with you… Nothing would make me happier if it worked.”  
  
“So you’re not disgusted with the idea?” Sam almost smiled. “Aw!” He cried out when Dean smacked the top of head.  
  
“Disgusted? Do you have any idea of what you… all of you… do to me?” Dean confessed, almost angrily, but still playful. “Damn it, Sam… Having sex with you would be awesome… Ending your nightmares because of it would be just perfect.”  
  
Sam smiled now. A true smile. “I thought you wouldn’t even consider it,” he said, only then realizing how relieved he felt.  
  
“That’s because you’re stupid,” Dean joked and Sam smacked him this time.  
  
“But seriously, Dean. I don’t know if it would work.” Sam was frowning again. “I really don’t. I might be completely wrong and this is not how to break the bond.”  
  
“I’m aware of that.”  
  
“Won’t you regret having done that then? I mean… it’s one thing what we’ve done so far… and it’s another to take it further.”  
  
“I won’t regret it, Sam. I promise.”  
  
Sam saw he meant it and smiled, satisfied.  
  
“What about you?” Dean asked. “What if you let me do this thing, and take you and maybe hurt you…” Dean looked deeply into hazel green eyes. “Will you not regret it?”  
  
Sam thought for a while. The idea of having sex with Dean was as exciting as it was terrifying. Could he really let someone do that to him again? Could he show himself so open and vulnerable to Dean? What if it didn’t work? There were many questions and there was, also, a risk of deception.  There was desire, yes, Sam knew that he wanted his brother. But there was also a childish fear, from the boy who was once hurt, that threatened to choke him if he didn’t run away. Sam considered all that before giving the most honest of answers.  
  
“It’s just you, Dean… and I could never regret it.”  
  
Dean was moved by the honesty. He still had no idea whether they would or not try the reverse spell. But it seemed irrelevant at this moment. They trusted each other, loved each other. It was enough for tonight.  
  
“Then we’ll figure it out.” He patted Sam’s knee and smiled.  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
  
 _tbc...._  
  
  
 _Hope you like it... :)  Just a bit more to go now._

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

 

Chapter 12  
  
  
  
They spent the rest of the night busy, Dean taking time to clean their weapons, and Sam checking the news on his laptop. It didn’t take him long to spot weirdness and, because they were both tired of being in that same city, they packed their things and got ready to leave, perhaps with a case waiting for them about a hundred miles away.  
  
Dean hadn’t said anything about hunting alone, and Sam hadn’t mentioned it either. They both really wanted to be on the road again, and the job was a good excuse to try and find some normality after all the feelings being stirred in their minds.  
  
They drove to the next city without incidents. Sam even managed to get some sleep; he laid his head quietly against the window and dozed off for about two hours.  
  
Dean focused on the road ahead, enjoying Sam’s quiet sleep to have a moment of privacy with his thoughts. And whenever the thought of living a sequence of events leading up to him and Sam in bed, and Sam in his arms, and him inside Sam… Well, Dean didn’t have much, not to say any, control over the tingling warmth that spread to his chest and then pooled in his lower belly. Could something like that really come to happen? Did he dare believe that he would have Sam in his arms in such a whole way?  
  
The thought made his heart race every time. Dean could feel the fast heartbeats and the heat around his neck going up and coloring his cheeks. He really believed that Sam had understood the meaning behind the spell, and although he would never regret taking Sam, he knew he would be devastated if it did not help him do away with the nightmares. Of course Dean wanted to have sex with Sam. Hell, he loved him, wanted him, he desired Sam’s smell and his thoughts, and his touch and his sweat… Just closing his eyes for a second and picturing it made him hard. But the possibility of doing that and not healing Sam would fucking break his heart.  
  
Because it was not all about the sexy, hot idea of possessing what he loved so dearly in the most primitive and yet spiritual way possible. It didn’t matter how appealing and sweet the image was, Dean knew there was also a great deal of past pains and fears that would have to be dealt with.  
  
And when he thought about it the languid warmth would leave his body, being replaced by tension that made his chest cold with worry. How could he ever take Sam in a way that didn’t remind him of what Azazel had done to him in the past? Dean knew nothing about that kind of intimacy. He knew it was supposed to be good for both people involved in it, but he really didn’t have a clue about how to make it happen. He had had sex with girls that way in the past, but they had been either kinky girls who made it clear they wanted and enjoyed it, or infatuated girls who seemed to do that just to please him. Well, kinky wasn’t a word to describe a ritual that might work because of intensity of their love for each other and in which there was a great deal of fear and pain to be overcome.  
  
The mere thought that Sam would regret it the moment they started, or worse, when it was already too late, gripped at his heart and made breathing more difficult and uneven. What if he tried his best, but found in Sam’s eyes nothing but suffering and regret? What if Sam’s fears were stronger and he tried not let them show, pretending to be okay with something that was truly killing him inside?  
  
Dean couldn’t take chances. He could not see himself as someone who might hurt his brother as that demon had. He could not, it didn’t matter how much he longed to have Sam surrender in his arms, be the one to cause him hurt and fright. He didn’t know what would happen if they carried out with this plan. He was nervous because of him and because of Sam – it was one thing if Sam told him everything he felt, but he knew, and that was for both of them, that there was a lot of holding back and pretending to be strong when you were really falling apart inside.  
  
He looked at Sam and found him still asleep, features peaceful. He smiled a protective, pleased smile and sighed. His shoulders were used to carrying the burden of life and death, it was part of the job. But when it was about Sam, Dean could not think straight, as the hunter he was raised to be. Sam made Dean remember he was just human and flawed. Sam was his reason to be the strongest, always, and yet his greatest weakness.  
  
He cast another look at his brother and shrugged off his thoughts for the time being.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
They arrived at the city and went straight to the police station with their fake IDs to find out what they could about the weirdness in the place being their kind of case or not. It felt good working together, interviewing people and putting together one of their usual puzzles.  
  
“Dean, the woman swears she saw the man change into somebody else, just like the officer at the station.”  
  
“I know. Shapeshifter then?”  
  
“That’s our best guess, yeah.” Sam agreed.  
  
“All right. People have seen him lurking at night. Let’s find a motel, check in and come back later to get this bastard.”  
  
Sam nodded, and in the early afternoon they checked into a motel and prepared their silver weapons to go hunting in a few hours.  
  
“Sam? Why don’t you go get us something to eat before we leave?” Dean suggested.  
  
“Alright. What do you want?”  
  
“Anything, as long as there’s pie.”  
  
Sam let out an amused little gasp, shook his head and left.  
  
Dean watched him go with a smile, waited a few minutes to make sure he was alone, and turned on the laptop to browse the web.  
  
“Okay….” He said to himself. “Let’s see if an old dog can learn a trick or two,” he murmured, opening a search the web page. Dean chose his key words carefully.  _Gay sex pleasure_. He sighed and clicked enter.  
  
For the next forty minutes Dean learned more about the male anatomy than he thought he had in a lifetime. He found out that, as word had it, there was a pleasure spot in guys that could be stimulated in anal sex. When he tried to discover the exact location of the prostate Dean found himself blushing at the images popping up on the screen, and when a porn educated guy like himself blushed, you knew there was something to it.  
  
Perhaps the thought that everything he looked for was stuff that might happen with Sam made everything the more heated and arousing to discover. He did feel uncomfortable at times, but he tried to be rational about it. If he was doing that to Sam, then there was no way his brother would feel pain in his hands. He would make Sam enjoy it, no matter what.  
  
Dean took mental notes of all the tips he could search in that short time he was alone. He read from sex education sites to downright gay porn, until he was satisfied he knew the essential. When he cleared the browser’s history and turned off the computer, there was still something he needed, though.  
  
Before Sam could return with their food, Dean left quickly, knowing he had to drop by the nearest drugstore.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
When Sam got back into the motel room he didn’t find Dean. He frowned and put the food on the table, taking a quick look around to make sure his brother was really out. When he realized he was indeed alone, Sam had a moment of anger, wondering if Dean had taken the time to go hunting and leave him there. Typical him, Sam thought, mad. He was about to leave the room and go blindly looking for his brother when Dean got back inside, staring at Sam with calm, innocent looking eyes.  
  
“What?” He asked at the anger he saw in his brother’s eyes.  
  
Sam studied him from head to toe. He didn’t seem to be coming back from hunting.  
  
“Where were you?”  
  
“Out. Just thought I’d heard something. Turns out it was nothing. Did you get pie?” Dean asked before Sam had a chance to inquire any further.  
  
“Um, yeah,” Sam took a few seconds to understand what was going on. “I thought you had left.  
  
“We’re doing this together, right?” Dean nodded towards the silver dagger on the bed.  
  
“Right,” Sam agreed, and relaxed.  
  
“Cool. Let’s eat then.” Dean walked past Sam and towards the food.  
  
They ate quickly and started going over their weapons again. Sam was packing a gun with silver bullets, and Dean had a silver dagger. Before they left, though, Dean stopped right in front of Sam and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you good to do this?”  
  
Sam tensed a little under his brother’s firm touch. He had spent all day trying to act naturally, to push away all sorts of thoughts about bonding that haunted his mind. He needed to do this; needed to go hunting and feel more in control of himself. He couldn’t just sit behind, left to dwell over the crazy anxiety eating at him.  
  
“I’m good, Dean. Let’s do this.”  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
They had found the shifter rather easily, but after spotting him and going for a first confrontation, things hadn’t exactly gone down as smoothly as planned. Shapeshifters were incredibly witty and hard to trap.  
  
The two hunters managed to corner him in an abandoned warehouse, but had to split ways to try and find him before he could get away. Sam found him first and pulled his gun. He fired twice,  but none of the bullets hit their target. He cursed under his breath, thinking that maybe Dean had a point when saying he was not at the top of his game to go hunting.  
  
The shifter heard the firing and hid from sight, and Sam went quickly after him, gun raised high and breath coming fast. He had slept no more than four or five hours in the last couple of days, and even though the adrenaline pumping in his system now fought away any sleepiness, the lack of sleep did make him slow to react, and that was why it took him precious seconds to start fighting when the shifter took him from behind and they started wrestling on the floor.  
  
“Get off me!” Sam groaned, but despite his efforts the gun way quickly taken from him and the shifter used the handle to hit him in the head, knocking him unconscious.  
  
Hearing footsteps approaching him quickly, the shapeshifter groaned angrily, remembering there was another one to take care of. He looked at the hunter on the floor and changed into his body, hoping that would help him slide off easily from the other.  
  
For a moment he blinked and adjusted to the new body, experimenting thoughts and feelings way too fast. “Whoa, you gotta a messed up head, man!” He marveled before standing up quickly and running to find the other hunter before he could see them together.  
  
“Sam?” Dean stopped on his tracks, dagger in hand when he saw his brother running in his direction. “What happened? I heard gunfire.”  
  
The shifter took a hand to the wound on his forehead and saw the bloody fingers.  
  
“I never saw him coming. He took my gun. I think he left the warehouse, Dean.”  
  
Dean looked at what he believed to be Sam and then looked around quickly, the dagger still firm in his hand.  
  
Meanwhile, a few feet away Sam was coming to his senses, eyes darting open as pain exploded in his head from the wound.  
  
“Dammit. Let’s go, we need to find this bastard.”  
  
“Right.” The shifter watched as the other hunter turned his back to him. He smiled then, and his hand went for the gun around his waist, the one he’d taken from Sam.  
  
“Dean, watch out!” Sam emerged behind the shifter and called out after his brother.  
  
When Dean turned around his eyes fell on a weird scene. There were two of his brother. One of the Sams was quickly rushing to the other in order to stop him. Then Dean quickly focused on the gun in what he now understood was the shifter’s hand, and moved quickly before the creature could fire at him. Sam’s intervention caused the shifter to miss, but his brother was also sent flying against the wall after managing to kick the gun away and out of the reach of any of them.  
  
“You son of a bitch,” Dean gritted his teeth, holding the dagger with renewed strength, circling the now unarmed shifter.  
  
“Oh, admit it. You thought I was him, didn’t you? Yes, you did,” the shifter grinned. “I was a good Sammy, wasn’t I?”  
  
Dean hated just how cocky those damn shifters usually were. They spent way too much time among humans, taking on their worse flaws. He charged at the shifter, both him and fake Sam engaging into a brutal fight. The problem, as Dean quickly learned, was that being in Sam’s body allowed the shifter to fight like Sam, and being taller and larger, he didn’t have a lot of trouble defending himself from Dean’s blows and landing others on him.  
  
Sam got to his feet and watched the scene. He looked around but couldn’t see the gun anywhere.  
  
“Fuck you!” Dean growled when a more violent punch connected to his cheekbone, making the dagger fly off his hand.  
  
The shining blade fell distant enough from the fighting, but within Sam’s sight. He made a quick dive for it and surged behind the shifter, dagger in hand in death in his eyes.  
  
“Let him go,” he demanded.  
  
The shifter looked over his shoulder quickly and saw the younger man holding the silver dagger. He still had a powerful grip on one of the hunters, hands closing around his throat.  
  
“Hey, hey, easy there with the dagger,” the shifter said, never loosening his grip on Dean.  
  
“Let him go.” Sam ordered again, slitting his eyes.  
  
And then the shifter smiled a devilish little smile, and did what he did best. He searched Sam’s thoughts and looked from him to his brother.  
  
“Why are you asking me this? Why do you want to save him when you so clearly fear him?” He provoked.  
  
Sam’s feet seemed to be glued to the floor. His heart skipped a beat and began to leak something that was either painfully cold or scorching hot into his chest. Sam couldn’t decide.  
  
“You don’t know shit,” Sam said.  
  
Dean watched the exchange. The hands around his neck had lost some of the pressure, but not enough for him to attempt an escape.  
  
“Sammy, I’m in you, don’t you understand? I can see inside your head. I can see that you’re afraid of your brother. So why don’t you let me take care of him?”  
  
Dean frowned and his heart slammed against his chest. He knew shifters lied through their teeth, but he also knew they were able to read the thoughts of the person whose body they took the shape of. And the way Sam was visibly disturbed just made it hard to believe that what he heard wasn’t true.  
  
“You fear me?” Dean asked, trying to connect with Sam’s straying eyes.  
  
The shifter enjoyed the moment, knowing his words had affected the hunter. The dagger in Sam’s hand no longer seemed to be held that firmly.  
  
“I don’t get it either,” The shifter smiled at Dean, hands still around his throat.  
  
“Shut up!” Dean groaned.  
  
“Now let’s see why you’re afraid of big brother here, shall we?” The shifter teased. Sam felt his hands grow slick with cold sweat, and he knew that if he raised his arm it would prove shaky. The shifter made a show of closing his eyes and seeming deep in thought. “You’re afraid that he’s going to hurt you.” He said and watched the two hunters lock eyes and exchange something intimate. He saw the questioning look in the one he held captive, and the troubled look in the other’s eyes. As long as he kept them lost he would be fine. “Oh, Sammy, aren’t we all afraid of getting hurt?”  
  
The pained look in Dean’s worried eyes spurred him into action. While the shifter basked in his plan of wiggling his way out through mind games, Sam groaned out of the stupor the shifter had put him into, swallowed his troubled thoughts and moved forward, pushing the dagger into the shifter’s back, straight into his heart.  
  
The hands around Dean’s throat immediately fell and the shifter screamed, eyes wide open in surprise. Sam pulled the dagger and fake Sam collapsed to the floor with a thud.  
  
“Are you okay?” Sam asked, looking at Dean.  
  
“I’m alright,” Dean touched some of his bruises with little attention. “Now what was that all about?”  
  
Sam looked at the floor. He wished he could be elsewhere, anywhere in this world where Dean wasn’t looking at him with that burning question.  
  
“Was he telling the truth? Are you afraid of me?”  
  
Sam didn’t reply. He swallowed hard, feeling difficulty to draw breath, as if his throat had constricted around his air passage.  
  
“Sam?” Dean insisted, stepping closer. “Do you fear me?” He held out his hand and touched Sam’s arm, and he didn’t like the way Sam jumped, startled and anxious, at his touch. He let go of him, his heart sinking.  
  
“No.” Sam said quickly. “I’m not afraid of you, Dean.”  
  
“Sam, don’t lie to me.” Dean pulled Sam away from the body on the floor and made him look into his eyes. “I need to know the truth, dammit. If you’re afraid of me I need to fucking know.” Dean’s voice was shaky with veiled emotions.  
  
“Dean, I don’t, all right? I…” Sam felt once again exposed, but he knew he had to talk to his brother. “Maybe. A little.”  
  
“Sam, I would  _never_  do anything to hurt you,” Dean started.  
  
“I know!” Sam interrupted him.  
  
“If you changed your mind about trying that bonding spell then all you need to do is tell me. You know I will never-“  
  
“Dammit, Dean… I know that,” Sam cut him off.  “It’s not like what the shifter made it sound like. I’m not afraid of you, not rationally. I haven’t changed my mind about the spell, I just…”  
  
“Just what Sammy?” Dean searched into his eyes. “You need to tell me,” He pleaded.  
  
“That boy,” Sam closed his eyes and relaxed a little. “That boy that Azazel took. I’m not that boy, Dean. I know you would never hurt me. I know what I am asking of you. I know all about it. But that boy hasn’t disappeared completely, you know. He’s still somewhere inside me, in my memories. And that boy is sort of afraid of going through that claiming again. I know what that boy felt. I remember now,” Sam explained. “And trust me, I don’t care about pain, I don’t. Even if you did hurt me, I wouldn’t care. I just want to make the dreams stop. But that boy, Dean…”  
  
“That boy fears it,” Dean helped him.  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
There was silence for a moment and then Sam lowered his eyes and wiped them with the back of his sleeved arm. He shook his head, eyes still on his feet, and licked his lips absently. “I’m sorry, Dean.”  
  
“Shush it.” Dean pulled Sam into an embrace and held him for a moment, neither of them speaking.  
  
Sam breathed in the smell of Dean, now a mixture of sweat and blood and that scent that was just him. “I don’t fear you, Dean. There’s just a small part of me that’s afraid. You have to understand I cannot control this part.”  
  
Dean pulled Sam away and framed his face with his hands.  
  
“I do. But if we have any plans of carrying out with that spell you need to tell me everything that is going on in this head of yours,” Dean pushed two digits into Sam’s forehead and made him smile. “I need to know what you think, Sam. I really do.”  
  
“I know. I’m sorry for not telling you. I didn’t know how.”  
  
Dean nodded, understanding.  
  
“Just promise me you’ll tell me if you have any more troubling thoughts about this whole thing, ok?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“We can always try and find Azazel. Killing him will also help you. I don’t want us to do anything you can’t handle.”  
  
“I can handle it.”  
  
“Maybe this Sam here can. But can past you?”  
  
Sam said nothing.  
  
“Are you giving up on the bonding then?” Sam’s question was full of sorrow and sadness.  
  
Dean smiled.  
  
“Of course not. I’ll do whatever you want me to, whatever I can to help you.”  
  
Sam relaxed and smiled.  
  
“But it’s up to you tell me when it happens, Sam. I won’t do anything until you believe we should do it. Do you understand that?”  
  
“Yes,” Sam whispered.  
  
Dean nodded, letting go of his brother and looking around the mess.  
  
“We should go then.”  
  
“Right. Thanks.”  
  
Dean just nodded again.  
  
Sam helped him look for their gun with the silver bullets, and then they were ready to leave the warehouse and go back to the hotel.  
  
When they walked in they were both physically and mentally shaken from the encounter with the shifter. Sam left the silver dagger on the table and watched as Dean put away the gun in a duffel bag.  
  
“I need a shower,” Sam walked past his brother and into the bathroom.  
  
Dean saw him go in and shut the door. He sighed deeply at everything that had just happened. He worried about Sam. He could imagine just how fucking hard it must be for him that the possible healing for the troubled nightmares he had was down the same painful memory he had of Azazel claiming him. And even though Dean would do his best to make sure a new bonding was nothing like the previous one, fear was just a wild, primitive instinct, difficult to tame or ignore. The worst was feeling so powerless to help, he thought. He laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for his turn to shower.  
  
When Sam left with a towel wrapped around his waist he looked extremely weary, but not so tense anymore.  
  
“Better?” Dean asked.  
  
“Yeah. I think so. Gonna make myself some tea.”  
  
“You wanna watch a movie after I finish?” Dean asked as he looked for clean underwear in his bag.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“Okay,” Dean disappeared into the shower. It took him fifteen minutes to clean up the blood on his skin, and as the water washed away the remaining fight tension, Dean let his mind drift over casual, silly things, such as which movie they could watch now.  
  
He left the bathroom ready to ask Sam to choose between two films he wanted to see, but when he walked out of the bathroom and into their room he knew there would be a change of plans.  
  
Sam had changed into underwear and lain on his stomach, sprawled over the bed, his hair wet and messy, one of his arms hanging out of the mattress.  
  
Dean watched him for a few moments before going closer and pulling the sheets carefully over him. Sam didn’t even twitch, he seemed to be sleeping heavily already, so Dean turned off the lights and went to his own bed.  
  
There had been a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind during the day, but as his head hit the pillow and his eyes shut, Dean was freed from all of them and welcomed into oblivion.  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
 _tbc...._  
  
 _Next chapter will be the last chapter... :)_

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Happy Season 10 everyone! ;)  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 13  
  
  
  
 _In his dream the Sam that put the dagger through the other’s Sam heart was the wrong one. The shifter had won, driving the dagger into his brother’s heart - Sam’s eyes lost and confused with pain, the grinning from the shifter ringing in his ears._  
  
Dean woke up quickly and breathless. He sat up on his bed and ran a hand through his hair. It took him a few seconds to realize that he had had a nightmare and that everything was alrig-  
  
“Sam?”  
  
Dean saw his brother’s large frame, standing up in the middle of the room. He turned on the lamp by the nightstand and what he saw was every bit as terrible as the nightmare.  
  
“Sam,” Dean gasped, afraid to move too fast, and afraid to move too slow.  
  
Sam barely acknowledged him. His eyes were hollow and determined, and his right hand held the silver dagger they’d forgotten to put away to the soft skin of his neck. “Sammy… Put it down,” Dean tried, slow and gently.  
  
Sam stared at him.  
  
“You’re not real. It’s all a nightmare,” Sam said, and pressed the blade a bit into his skin.  
  
Dean saw a drip of blood trickle down Sam’s neck and got to his feet, walking smoothly up to his brother, trying to spark clarity into his glassy eyes.  
  
“Sam, give me this dagger, eh? Let’s talk about it,” He reached out his hand, asking for the object.  
  
Sam’s forehead creased and his eyes showed a sign of life, so pained that it was difficult just to look at him. “Don’t,” he said. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t close my eyes and see his face. I need to get him out,” Sam cracked, the blade still biting into his skin, making a trail of blood travel down his collarbone.  
  
“I understand,” Dean measured his every word, his heart beating fast. “I do, Sammy… Just give me the dagger, right? You can do this, brother,” He nodded at the weapon and his fingers were close to touching it.  
  
Sam chocked on a series of repressed sobs and for a moment Dean thought he would go through it, pressing the blade so deep that he flinched and tears rolled down his cheeks.  
  
“Sam… Sammy, give me this, please, it’s okay…” Dean covered Sam’s hand with his own, gently covering his brother’s fingers and pulling the blade safely away from his neck. “Yes, that’s it… let it go…” Dean took the blade gently until the dagger was safely firm in his hand. He took a deep breath, only now realizing he’d been holding it. “It’s okay, Sammy…” Dean held the dagger by his side. He didn’t want that anywhere near Sam’s neck.  
  
“I can’t stand this anymore, Dean,” Sam shook his head, and with the silver dagger safely away from him he seemed himself again. “I can’t,” he insisted, weary and sad.  
  
“Shh, it’s alright,” Dean’s palm connected with his cheek and slid to the back of his neck.  
  
Sam’s eyes were lost on the floor for a moment. Then he wiped them and looked deeply into Dean’s. The older brother felt a bolt of warmth grab him at the way Sam looked at him. “Dean? I’m ready to try it.”  
  
Dean shuddered, his hand tightening into Sam’s hair, at the back of his neck.  
  
“Are you….sure?” He knew his voice sounded raw, even to his own ears.  
  
“I’m sure…” Sam whispered, his eyes never leaving his brother’s. “Now, Dean. I need it.”  
  
Dean shut his eyes and felt Sam’s mouth connect with his. The hand at the back of Sam’s neck pressed him in further and Sam complied, falling into the kiss, tasting Dean’s lips until they were swollen and soft.  
  
They broke apart and looked into each other’s eyes. Dean was shaking, and from the look in Sam’s eyes, he knew exactly the feeling. Then Dean’s eyes fell on the blood drying on Sam’s neck, and, thinking of the power of blood in rituals, Dean leaned in closer and darted out his tongue, licking the trail of blood from Sam’s collarbone to the self inflicted wound, sucking softly until Sam squirmed and pressed into him.  
  
“Dean,” he gasped, throatily.  
  
Dean pulled away, the taste of Sam’s blood on his tongue. He lifted the dagger then and, without breaking the eye lock, pressed the sharp blade to his own neck, cutting lightly into the skin until a small trail of blood ran down his neck. Sam watched, transfixed, as Dean threw the dagger away and beckoned him closer.  
  
“Let’s do it right,” he said.  
  
Without a second thought, Sam complied and leaned in, flattening his tongue against the cut on Dean’s neck and sucking until his brother shuddered and moaned, the sound in between pain and delight.  
  
Sam stopped sucking and their mouths met again, this time with an unmistakable trace of blood swirling against their tongues. Never breaking the kiss, Sam helped Dean off his T-shirt, and let himself be led back to his bed. His knees touched the edge of the bed and he sat on it, lying on his back slowly, his eyes locked with Dean’s as his brother crawled on top of him smoothly.  
  
When Dean covered him like a blanket they both sighed in unison at the hot feeling of their bodies touching.  
  
Dean felt Sam’s hands work on his underwear and he helped him slide them off, doing to the same to him right after. Sam lifted his hips to help and when Dean found his position between Sam’s legs, stretching on top of him, the two brothers held on as pleasure engulfed them.  
  
“Sam…” Dean was breathing erratically, and the dim light coming from the lamp let Sam see how dark his brother’s eyes were with desire. “I want you so much,” he whispered, moving his hips into Sam’s, watching him as he gasped and arched back.  
  
Sam loved the feeling of their thighs tangled and their cocks pressed up together. His hands held on possessively at Dean’s arms before sliding down his torso, kneading and teasing, sending shock waves down Dean’s spine.  
  
“Let me know if you want to stop, okay?”  
  
Sam swallowed hard, feeling a tingle of fear dance with his desire. He loved being the object of Dean’s unconditional care. He had always loved being on the receiving end of all of Dean’s attention and worry, basking in the protectiveness that Dean kept just for him.  
  
“Tonight I’ll be yours,” he said slowly, surely. There was no way his fears would get in the way, he promised himself.  
  
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean bit on his bottom lip and leaned down to kiss him again. For a moment there was just the silky sound of skin on skin as Dean rubbed against him and Sam pressed back, just as hotly. Dean panted against Sam’s ear, driving him to new heights of need, making him throb.  
  
“I’ll make you feel so good, Sammy,” Dean slurred, planting kisses on his brother’s chest, wet and hot kisses that caused Sam’s skin to react feverishly at the softness.  
  
“Dean,” Sam’s fingers intertwined in Dean’s hair when he took one of his nipples between his lips and sucked. Sam gasped and made a small sound in his throat that died muffled in his mouth.  
  
Dean licked his way to Sam’s other nipple, rolling it against his tongue and sucking until Sam squirmed and arched off the bed. Dean felt Sam’s cock pressed taut against his thigh, and he shuddered at the warm wetness he could feel leaking from his tip against his skin.  
  
Dean kissed his way down Sam’s stomach, dipping his tongue into his navel, which earned him a strangled cry of laughter. “Don’t!” Sam panted, laughing. “Ticklish,” Sam protested half-heartedly, his eyes shut, sweat starting to bead on his forehead.  
  
“What? Because of this?” Dean tongued his navel again, and Sam thrashed anew.  
  
“Fuck Dean, don’t,” he begged, and he felt his cock pulse betrayingly.  
  
Dean grinned and nibbled the skin on Sam’s hip bone, making the laughter end and the thick, lustful concentration return to Sam’s face. Dean took a deep breath and stared at Sam’s achingly hard cock. That was the kind of thing you didn’t really need practice to do. Dean supposed that wanting to make Sam go fucking crazy with pleasure was as good as any training. He lowered his mouth and let Sam slip past his lips.  
  
“Oh-“ Sam half sat on the bed, his eyes flying open to look at the scene of his brother’s lips parting and taking him, inch after inch, into the warm wetness of his mouth. Sam’s eyes were clouded and dark, and his hand found the back of Dean’s neck and rested there. “Yes, Dean… damn…” Sam tried to hold back a little, afraid of showing how good it felt, but his control dissolved when Dean pulled back and went down on him again, bobbing his head and flattening his tongue against the underside of his cock, licking at the sensitive spot under the head. “Oh, mmm…” Sam moaned. The sound so delicious Dean sucked him more wetly and deeper, amazed at how much he enjoyed doing that to his brother.  
  
Sam fell back on the bed again, his fingers clutching the sheets under his body. He was torn between keeping his eyes open and locking eyes with Dean, feeling the shiver that would travel down his spine at how hot it felt, and simply letting his eyes roll in the back of his head with pleasure.  
  
“Dean?” Sam frowned when Dean pulled away and left the bed, his voice sounding so much like a whimper that Dean laughed.  
  
“Chill out, just need something.”  
  
Sam was so aroused that he just shut his eyes and moaned again, hips circling in bed, breath uneven and clipped.  
  
“Come back.” He urged, and Dean complied in a heart beat. “Where did you-oooohh, fuck,” Sam groaned when Dean’s mouth was once again on him, sucking him in deep. This time Dean had to hold Sam’s hips down not to gag. When he felt Sam would no longer thrust so hard into his inexperienced mouth, Dean let his hands relax against his thighs, caressing him there, letting his fingertips trail lower on Sam’s skin, to the part where his legs met.  
  
Sam was too carried away, with incoherent sounds escaping his lips every time Dean’s tongue licked him, to see what Dean was up to. But he did feel a fingertip touch his entrance with a wet, cold sensation, and he stiffened despite himself.  
  
“Shhh…” Dean soothed. “It’s alright, Sammy,” he gently pressed the digit around the rim, just touching him there until it didn’t feel so foreign and Sam relaxed again.  
  
Dean ignored Sam’s and his straining erections for the time being, because he had more important tasks in mind. He inserted his finger tentatively, watching Sam’s face for the smallest of discomforts. He found none so far. The lube he had bought before made his finger slide in easy, and soon it was all the way within tight and soft heat.  
  
“Hm…” Sam drew a shaky breath. He felt Dean’s finger move in and out slowly, probingly, trying to relax him. For a moment he felt exposed and vulnerable. He stopped making pleasure sounds and shut his eyes, unable to meet Dean’s.  
  
“Sam?” Dean moved his finger, feeling his cock throb and ooze at how hot it felt to see Sam like that and do that to him. “Sam, look at me.” Dean cooed.  
  
The softness of his voice was like a caress, a sexy one, one that made Sam feel hot and his cheeks flush.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Dean slowly added another finger, stretching the passage a little, exploring the softness of the skin and the way it clenched around him.  
  
“That okay?” He asked, and Sam loved him for the true concern in his voice. He knew Dean was painfully hard, and the thought that he would stop everything if Sam asked him was so amazing that Sam could hardly believe just how perfect it all felt.  
  
“Yes…”  
  
Dean accepted the answer and then focused on his fingers again. He curled his fingertips and started a slow friction against what he believed felt like the pleasure spot.  
  
“Hm!” Sam’s hips buckled and he looked at Dean. The puzzlement in his face was so sweet to Dean that he smiled happily, hungrily, feverishly. He stroked his fingertips once again over the same spot, and was rewarded with a string of moaning unlike anything he had ever heard come out of Sam’s mouth.  
  
“Dean, Dean… mmmm,” Sam felt his hips following Dean’s fingers when they retreated, guilelessly trying to impale himself upon them. He felt hotly ashamed and yet way too good to care. “What… what….are you doing to me?” He managed to babble.  
  
Dean rubbed his fingers against the spot and drank in the sight of Sam writhing and opening further to his touch. “I did my homework, Sammy,” Dean smirked. “Told you I’d make you feel good.”  
  
Sam cried out when Dean’s mouth was once again on his cock. He panted and rolled his head into the pillow, caught between the feeling of fucking into Dean’s warm mouth and being fucked by his brother’s knowing fingers. His hips buckled, and he barely felt a small burning sensation when Dean added another one.  
  
Dean sucked him relentlessly and worked his fingers in and out until Sam was a mess of moaning and begging. He let his cock slip out of his mouth and focused on his fingers, thrusting them steadily. “That good, Sammy?” He slurred, drinking in the pleasure Sam felt, wanting to make Sam feel this fucking aroused and heated for the rest of his life.  
  
“Yes,” Sam didn’t care if he sounded wanton. “Please, Dean,” he closed his fingers against Dean’s wrist and tried to guide his brother’s fingers faster into his body. “ _Dean_ …”  
  
Dean slitted his eyes and squeezed his cock with his free hand at the sight of Sam forcing his fingers to please him faster.  
  
His cock pulsed and Dean knew he was growing desperate at the sight of Sam all hot and bothered. He retreated his fingers and watched, pleased, as Sam groaned at the loss.  
  
Sam managed to focus and saw Dean coating his cock with a generous amount of lube. Dean groaned, a low and muffled sound, as he stroked his cock for a moment. Sam watched as Dean moved in between his legs and stopped. He couldn’t help the twinge of fear that lacerated through his body for a second, and his eyes darkened and showed his brother what his lips couldn’t.  
  
“Are you afraid?” Dean asked, concern cutting through the lust scraping at his throat.  
  
“A little,” Sam admitted. He would not lie.  
  
“You can stop me at any time, alright? Promise you will if it gets too much?”  
  
Dean caressed Sam’s face with his clean hand, searching into his eyes.  
  
He nodded.  
  
Sam then saw the words in Dean’s eyes before they were out.  
  
“I love you,” Dean said. “You know that right?” Sam would be damned if there wasn’t wetness in Dean’s eyes.  
  
“More than pie?” Sam smiled.  
  
Dean laughed. “More than pie, Sammy. So fucking much it hurts,” He smiled again, and it was just beautiful to see the combination or piercing arousal and tenderness raking through him. Sam couldn’t tell which he liked better. Luckily, he wouldn’t have to choose. Tonight he could have both.  
  
“C’mon, Dean.”  
  
“Sam…” There was a plea in his voice that made Sam shudder.  
  
“ _Take me_.”  
  
Dean gently pushed Sam’s knees to his chest and held on to his thighs, opening him. He pushed himself slowly but surely, the lube made him have to restrain himself not to slam into the awaiting heat.  
  
“Mmm!” Sam frowned and shut his eyes, his body tense, his hands closed into tight fists.  
  
“I got you, Sammy,” Dean murmured softly, pushing in gently, every inch of him being slowly sheltered by the tight heat of Sam. “I got you, relax for me…” He kissed Sam’s forehead and cheeks, and swallowed down a groan when he felt himself completely buried into his brother. “Open your eyes, Sam,” he asked.  
  
Sam did as told, and it felt like his eyes had claws as they held on to Dean like he was the only one who could save him.  
  
“You’re so beautiful,” Dean whispered, pulling out and pushing back in, feeling Sam relax a little more around him. “You know that? You’ve always been so beautiful.”  
  
Sam smiled.  
  
“Never took you to be this soft, Dean,” Sam smiled, moving his hips tentatively and being rewarded with a sigh of pleasure from Dean.  
  
“It’s only for you, Sam,” Dean smiled, bold and confident this time. “Only for you…” he pulled out and drew back in, slightly deeper this time.  
  
Sam gasped. He shut his eyes at the burning feeling of being so filled by Dean. The feeling was almost more than he could handle. He tried to tell himself to relax, but he didn’t seem very in control of his body’s responses.  
  
“Dean,” he frowned and pulled his brother closer so he was able to bury his nose into his neck and hide the discomfort he felt.  
  
“It’s okay, Sammy, we’ll take it slow,” Dean’s voice was breathy and pregnant with need. He moved his hips slowly, thrusting in and out with a control that nearly killed him. He could feel himself pulsing every time Sam clenched around him, and it felt so fucking good he wanted to be buried deep within his brother forever.  
  
“Hm,” Sam’s breathing was a mess. He held his breath and gasped, holding on to Dean and starting to move his hips slowly to the rhythm Dean set.  
  
“Hmm,” Dean groaned, starting to move with just a little bit more confidence. He buried his nose into the junction of neck and shoulder, and breathed in Sam’s scent. He darted out his tongue and licked the taste of sweat and surrender, and it drove him mad with urgency.  
  
Dean lifted himself a little for a better look at Sam. He pulled his thighs closer and changed the angle of his thrusts a little. Sam’s brow uncreased and a feeble moan stumbled past his lips.  
  
“This better?” Dean asked hotly, thrusting smoothly, being squeezed by heat and softness.  
  
Sam felt Dean’s cock stroke that same spot his fingers had found before, and his body at last learned how to relax. He let the tension go and tried swiveling his hips against Dean.  
  
“Fuck,” Dean cursed. He frowned as if in pain, unable to process the intense pleasure running through him as Sam started to push down against his cock, his hips arching into his thrusts. It was all Dean needed to let himself move faster, and when he started he knew that was a quick, no coming back road to the end.  
  
“Mmm, oh god, Dean,” Sam opened his eyes and stared into Dean’s green ones. He could hardly believe the way he felt. Every time Dean pushed inside him, Sam groaned at the pleasure starting within his body and spreading to his cock. He began to meet Dean’s thrusts halfway through.  
  
Dean looked at the sight before him. Sam’s chest heaving with hitched breathing, his eyes were either shut tightly under the pleasure or locked with his, urging him further. Never, in his wildest dreams, could he have imagined what it would feel like to have Sam writhing under his body, split open on his cock, and moaning unashamedly at the pleasure.  
  
“No one…” Dean groaned, eyes dark with lust and possessiveness.  
  
“What?” Sam gasped, barely able to understand anything except for the pleasure building up.  
  
“No one will ever have you like this, Sammy. You’re mine,” Dean said, punctuating his words with the pistoning of his hips.  
  
Sam smiled softly. His eyes slitted with lust as his body seemed afire responding to each thrust.  
  
“No one, Dean.” Sam promised.  
  
Dean moaned, eyes burning into Sam’s. He leaned down, his hips moving steadily into Sam, and whispered the spell into his ear.  
  
 _Amor vincit omnia_  
 _In aeternum te amabo_  
 _Una in perpetuum_  
 _Amor gignit amorem_  
  
Sam moaned at the breathy, hot voice in his ear. He was only vaguely worried about the spell. His body burned in a much more consuming urgency.  
  
“Dean… more…please…”  
  
“Oh, fuck, Sammy…” His brother’s pleas inflamed him and Dean thrust harder, giving in to the hunger and need tearing at him, and slamming his hips deep into the tightness that was now eager to swallow him. Dean wanted to have all of Sam, every inch of him. He touched as much skin as he could, and captured Sam’s mouth into a bruising kiss, desperate to taste the sounds of pleasure Sam was making.  
  
“Mmmm,” Sam moaned into Dean’s mouth, the sound making Dean drive harder and groan in response, the vibration swirling along with their greedy tongues.  
  
“You’re  _mine_ , Sammy,” Dean lost himself in what he was doing. It felt right, it felt perfect. His heart slammed against his chest drowning in the overwhelming feeling of pleasing Sam, of claiming him so completely that they might never find their way back their separate selves again.  
  
“Yes,” Sam echoed. “Yes, Dean, please!”  
  
Dean wrapped his hand around Sam’s cock and stroked. Sam buckled and made a helpless, high pitched sound, panting and shivering.  
  
“Was that a whimper?” Dean teased, pounding into him faster and stroking him hard and good.  
  
Sam smiled, his eyes shut. His bangs stuck to his forehead, covered in a sheen layer of sweat. And when his cheeks started to blush, he was so beautiful Dean could die.  
  
“No…” Sam chuckled, the sound husky and lustful, his cheeks pink as he relished being the object of Dean’s desire and attention.  
  
“Do that again,” Dean smiled, tightening his fist around Sam’s erection and thrusting hard into him, hitting his prostate.  
  
“Dean!” Sam whimpered, thrashing on the bed, his hips arching off, his cock pulsing against Dean’s palm. “I’m gonna…” His panting got louder, filling the room.  
  
“Gonna what, Sammy? Gonna come for me?”  
  
Sam moaned unabashedly, his thighs squeezing Dean into his body, his eyes helplessly watching as Dean stroked him harder and faster.  
  
“Let it go, Sammy, show me what you feel,” Dean coaxed.  
  
Sam’s eyes locked with his brother and it burned. He convulsed within Dean’s fist, his eyes falling shut as his every muscle tensed, clenching and shooting all over his and Dean’s chest.  
  
The contractions were nearly enough to make Dean come. He shuddered and rammed into Sam, lost to the pleasure, unable to form a coherent thought as tightness squeezed and fluttered around him hotly and Sam’s come covered his fist, wet and warm.  
  
Sam was tingling all over, his body relaxing, opening unresistingly for Dean to take what he needed. He managed to open his heavy eyes and found Dean hovering above him, nearly over the edge, driving into him and looking dazed with hunger.  
  
“Dean…” Sam smiled through half closed eyes.  
  
“Yes, baby?”  
  
“You’re beautiful too.”  
  
Dean tried to smile, but the pleasure enslaved him and twisted his features, urging him on with a frown of concentration.  
  
“And I love you.”  
  
Sam’s words were like fire exploding inside his head. Dean felt himself melting into his brother’s body with every thrust, seeking inside Sam everything he would ever need for the rest of his life. He felt Sam pull him closer, lock his legs around his lower back and frame his face within his large hands.  
  
“Now  _fuck me_ ,” Sam slurred boldly and Dean lost control.  
  
He ravished Sam’s mouth as his hips lost all sense of rhythm, slamming into Sam with erratic, greedy and powerful thrusts. Dean made a series of desperate sounds he might’ve been ashamed of, but Sam drank them all in his mouth, moving into Dean and urging him over the edge.  
  
“Mmmm!” Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth and thrust one final time, feeling a hot shiver rake him, head to toe as he kept still, pulsing and releasing within the tight heat wrapped around his cock.  
  
They stayed like that, locked into each other as thoroughly as possible, semen, sweat, saliva, everything just making their skin connect and they never want to part again. Dean’s mouth was still on Sam’s, but after a moment of just being there, lips parted, breathing into each other’s mouths, Dean started kissing him again, slow and lovingly, caressing Sam’s tongue with his own, never wanting to move from being all tangled up like that.  
  
Eventually Dean let himself collapse on top of Sam’s chest, his cheek pressed against his brother’s warm skin. Sam’s fingers came to touch him lightly, his forehead, his eyelids, his hair. They kept touching like that for a moment more, when Dean at last moved and pulled out of him.  
  
Sam groaned at the emptiness, but soon Dean was there again, all wrapped up around him. Sam wanted to carve a hole into his brother’s chest and hide in there forever. It felt too good letting Dean take care of him in a whole new level of intimacy.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Dean asked, fingers running through Sam’s sweaty bangs, eyes adoringly worried about him. Sam knew that look. He had been on its receiving end since he could remember. He smiled.  
  
“I’m great, Dean.”  
  
“So, do you think it…worked?” Dean asked, tracing patterns on Sam’s chest, feeling possessive of him.  
  
Sam thought for a while. “I do.” He said. And then he looked into his brother’s eyes and smiled mischievously. “But I wouldn’t mind doing it again, you know. Just to be on the safe side.”  
  
They both grinned, and Sam protested cheerfully when Dean’s fingers closed around his ribcage, tickling him.  
  
“I was the best you ever had, ‘fess up, Sammy,” Dean smirked, feeling all proud and cocky.  
  
“Nah… I’ve had better,” Sam teased.  
  
“No you haven’t.”  
  
“No, I haven’t.” Sam agreed at last, looking into Dean’s eyes. “I meant that, Dean. I love you. Have loved you since I can remember.”  
  
Dean smiled, basking in how at ease Sam made him feel.  
  
“I love you too, Sammy,” he took Sam’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “No one will ever touch you like I did, Sam. You’re all mine, ” Dean stated again.  
  
“Now who knew you were such a possessive little bitch?” Sam laughed.  
  
Dean laughed too.  
  
“Oh, you have no idea,” he said.  
  
“My bitch,” Sam slitted his eyes and smiled a sexy, meaningful smile  
.  
Dean’s breath caught and he stared at his brother, speechless.  
  
“What? Are you blushing?” Sam teased.  
  
“Shut up,” Dean punched his shoulder playfully and laid down next to him again.  
  
They  eventually fell asleep that night in a warm mess of limbs and slow, peaceful breathing.  
  
  
~ *  ~  
  
  
A month later, when Bobby called to know about their whereabouts, he asked how Sam was doing.  
  
 _“No more nightmares then?”_  
  
“Nope, not a single one,” Dean smiled at Sam, sitting across from him as he talked to Bobby.  
  
 _“That’s great! Then you did figure out how to do that counterspell about claiming and the opposite and shit?”_  
  
“Yep. We figured it out. Next time we run into Azazel that son of a bitch will have no power over Sam,” Dean nodded, holding the cell phone to his ear and eyeing Sam. The past month had been perfect. Sam slept through entire nights, except when they had huntings. Or when they engaged into claiming rituals… they seemed to have acquired a taste for those.  
  
 _“Dean…?”_  Bobby’s voice was sudden serious and curious.  _“Do I wanna know what you two did to make it work?”_  
  
Dean bit on his bottom lip to keep from chuckling.  
  
 “Ah, I don’t think so, Bobby.”  
  
 _“Okay then,”_  Bobby said quickly.  _“See you two idjits soon. Take care.”_  
  
“Bye,” Dean finished the call and turned to look at Sam once again.  
  
“Do you think he knows?” Sam asked.  
  
“Do you think he cares?” Dean replied.  
  
Sam smiled and stood up, walking up to his brother and kissing him on the lips. Dean loved when he did that.  
  
“So, I was checking out the news and I think we might have something a few miles from here…”  
  
“Alright, let’s go then.”  
  
“Hey Dean? Do you think maybe I could drive this time?”  
  
“Do you really think that just because you’re sleeping with me I’ll go soft on you? I mean, let you drive baby? You wish, kid.”  
  
“Jerk.”  
  
“Bitch.”  
  
Dean stopped before him for a moment to look into his eyes and leaned in to kiss his mouth. Sam responded, parting his lips a little and tasting his brother briefly. Dean pulled away, smiled and left the motel room. Sam sighed and reached into his pocket to find the motel key and lock the room. When he reached into his pocket, though, he ended up taking a different key. Dean had slipped the Impala’s key into his pocket as they kissed.  
  
Sam smiled and fingered the object.  
  
“I love you too, Dean,” he said to himself, laughed, and left the room, ready to join Dean in yet another hunt.  
  
  
  
  
The End   
  
  
 -------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
  
 Translation:  
 _Love conquers all_  
 _I will love you for all eternity_  
 _Together forever_  
 _Love creates love  
  
  
Thank you so much all those who took time to read it. I really hope it was worth the time you put into it. =)_

 

 


End file.
